The Storm
by Djuva
Summary: After the victories won the New Republic faces a new threat from without a mysterious alien race and an old one: the Empire. Palpatine's legacy is still haunting the heroes of The Art of War, and it hits one of them particularly hard, when the plans bot
1. Prologue

The Storm

Sequel to The Art of War

****

Prologue

The living dead shall resurrect the glory of the past   
And a storm of darkness shall swallow the light 

__

Excerpt from the Jen'da prophecies

Marten Anderland was watching in rapt fascination as the program he had developed over almost four years of hard work began its wondrous task. On the five screens he was using to keep track of all the different streams of data he could practically see it sieve through the immense flow of information. And that was only a tenth of what was still waiting to be put into chronological and logical order. It was unbelievable. At least, it would have been, had it not been there in front of his very eyes. After all those years the Seeker really, truly was functional.

Marten was grinning like an idiot as the Seeker, that was the name he had given the program, began fishing code from the data and put it in orderly columns of letters and numbers, each combination a different aspect of the given topic. It had taken ages to come up with a suitable code, and Marten was still not completely satisfied with the outcome. Not fine enough for his taste, there were too many flavors that still eluded the Seeker, and those might be vital. 

As the program continued its tedious work dutifully, Marten made himself relax. He had been Father and Mother for that little Seeker, but now it was up to him to do its job. All he himself could do now was wait, rest and debug the program again and again, until it was perfect. Rising from his seat he stretched slowly, then grabbed the plastic cup sitting on his desk to go and get himself something to drink and eat. Lunch was hours gone and it was already closing in on midnight on this side of the planet Marten had requested an office with no windows, so nothing would distract him. 

In the outer office Julien waved at him as he passed. 

"Any progress?"

"Yep," Marten was practically beaming at his colleague. "That little guy is busy as a womprat."

"Wow!" Julien exclaimed with a grin of his own. "Guess that calls for a celebration tonight. Boss will want to commend you again."

They shared a mirthless smile. "Yeah, sure," was all Marten answered. The past months had changed everything. First the Emperor had died, then the rebels had taken over Coruscant and just now they had called a New Republic. So many things had happened, but Marten and his colleagues had only one task to perform, and that took up all of their time and had done so for the past six years. Boss, who actually held a professorship for Artificial Intelligence back on Coruscant, was the only one who kept an eye on what was going on around them, and he had been increasingly nervous over the past weeks. Probably he expected a rebel raid to come crashing down on them at any moment, but Marten did not care much about that. He did not care who paid his wages as long as he could continue his work unmolested.It was too fascinating to let go, and he had put so much of himself into it that all he wanted was for the program to finally run perfectly. 

Walking toward the cantina he passed the library, rows upon rows of shelves stacked with datacards, billions of them, sorted by topic, time and a whole string of other variables that Marten had had to incorporate into his little Seeker. That had taken most of his time, while Julien and the others had had the monumental task of developing a filing system he could base his code on. They were so close now, so close.

As he walked into the cantina, empty at this time of the day, since only he and Julien were still up, he noticed that a storm was again raging over the planet, with rain beating hard against the walls of the complex and thunder roaring overhead. Marten shook his head. How he hated this season. Bad weather, floods and afterwards millions of gnats that made it torture to take a walk outside, since no shield generators were allowed. They might give the complex away, after all. Security was pretty lax, but then, the job they were doing was not vital in itself. The essence of it was to acquire knowledge. Marten remembered the day when he had been first brought to the facility along with the others, among which he had only made friends with Julien, Anja and Hartford. 

He had been wide-eyed then at the brand-new, first-class equipment they had been provided with, but over the years he had grown accustomed to always having the latest and best models. Then, three weeks after their arrival, once they had all had had a chance to get to know their surroundings, they had been briefed about their task: analyze the memory of a sentient being and duplicate its mind. At first they had protested, all of them convinced that this was impossible. Too many intervening variables had to be taken into account, from the mental condition over the weather to the mood of the subject. Luckily their subject had been a bit easier to handle, with almost no intervening variable to go with the memories. Marten had no idea how that was possible, but when the data had started arriving the small gang of scientists and slicers had begun muttering about 'impossible' again. That had earned them a surprise visit by the Emperor himself. Well, the old man was dead now, and he would not have to 'motivate' them again either, in fact, that had not been necessary ever since the day he had had Boss Zimay executed in front of the others' eyes. 

A particulartly close strike of thunder shook the walls. Marten started, spilling lemonade all over his hand and shirt.That had been no thunder! Throwing the cup down, he hastened back into the office complex, where he found Julien already talking into the comm urgently. 

"We're under attack," his friend was yelling, "get your lazy asses up here!"

"Too late," Marten breathed, when what he had taken for falling rain stopped in front of the great double doors that led out into the main corridor. Julien groaned softly and both men jumped when the door crashed open. A woman strode into the office briskly, her slender body covered with a very tight-fitting body-suit that revealed more than it hid. She held a blaster in her right hand and a throwing knife in her left. Her mane of dark blonde curls stood in all directions from her head, giving her a somewhat wild appearance, but her blue eyes were icy cold. When she became aware of the fact that it were indeed only two men confronting her and the twenty-odd tough-looking men crowding in at her heels she rammed the knife back into its scabbard at her belt.

"Your names," she growled softly. Marten found himself standing to attention automatically.

"Sergeant Marten Anderland, ma'am!" he bellowed, and Julien said almost on top of him: "Lieutenant Julien Armash."

The woman gave them a slow smile that made Marten sweat in his skin. "So. Marten and Julien. Nice to meet you two. My name is Yana Dar, and I am taking over this facility."

Yana Dar walked into the back-office almost reverentially, and her eyes were gleaming with awe. Anderland was trailing after her, twitching nervously whenever one of her bodyguards even looked at him. But Yana did not care if he was scared enough to wet his pants or not.

"This is your work, Marten?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me Yana. So, what does it do?"

He bustled past to show her. "This is the algorithm, or at least part of it," he began to explain and gestured at one of the smaller screens. "This is the data we have already encrypted. The program sifts through that data, looking for special code combinations on a special topic."

"What topic?" Yana asked and walked over to lean over his shoulder, her hair brushing over his cheek.

Marten blushed when he looked up at her.

"Er, Sith History, my lady."

She chuckled softly. Of course. What else? "Very good. Abla." The man detached from the rest of her guards and ambled over to join them. "Abla, what do you make of this?"

He squinted at the screens, taking his time. "Solid work, I'd say," he announced at last.

Marten was beaming with pride and Yana absent-mindedly started massaging his neck as she said: "How long do you think you'll need to get acquainted with the Sergeant's little bundle of joy?"

"Four months, maybe more, depends on his cooperation."

"His cooperation." She laughed softly, before she bent down to whisper in the Sergeant's ear: "You will be a good boy, won't you?" He nodded quickly, sweat pouring down his forehead. "Good!" She let go of him again and took a step back. "He's all yours, Abla. Take him away." She waited until the two men had left before she addressed the rest. "I want you to secure the facility completely. No one is to escape." They nodded one by one, then left too. 

Yana took a place on the chair Marten had previously occupied and crossed her feet on the desk, boot-tips pointing toward the ceiling. Leaning back against the head-rest she studied the data scrolling past on the screens pensively. Four months, maybe more, until she could move in earnest. Well, there was still a lot to prepare. First she would have to get in contact with that Ismaren woman and find herself a fitting liaison to the so-called New Republic. Her sources on Coruscant were adept enough at uncovering information, but that was not enough. She needed agents who enjoyed the trust of the leaders of the Republic. Yes. Smiling to herself Yana Dar relaxed gradually. Her father would have been proud of her. Very proud. A shame that he was dead. She had felt his death a week ago, an immense disturbance in the Force, and she remembered the joy she had felt very clearly. There was no one who could stand in her way now, no one left to oppose her. Not with what she had here. With that wealth of knowledge no one would be able to challenge her. 


	2. Chapter 1 - Proposals

****

Chapter 1 - Proposals

The jungle world of Yavin 4 was never silent. The Force was always roaring with the muted sounds of the billions of creatures that populated the forests and it heaved and bucked like a stormy sea with the countless new lives and deaths that happened each second all over the planet. Nestled in the midst of the jungle the great ziggurats of the millennia-old temples of the Massassi lay underneath a thick blanket of humid heat; the sounds of avians patrolling the forest roof, along with the nattering of woolamanders filled the air around them. Inside the great structures, though, cool silence prevailed. 

Well, almost.

"I should not have come back here," a man's voice announced, its deep timbre flowing along the hallways of the Great Temple like the rumble of a small earthquake. "I don't think he will be very pleased to see me again," he continued. "And I won't be pleased either. Don't laugh, okay? This is part of the ritual." The voice stopped talking abruptly and for a heart-beat the silence returned. Then, very softly, someone started singing.

Belana Jen crossed her arms in front of her chest and smiled. Her charge was standing at the center of the temple's great hall that formed the heart of the structure. Roj Kell had shed his dark robes, wearing nothing but his pants and boots, black too, of course. His face, still handsome despite the lines that three thousand years had etched into his skin, was fixed in utmost concentration, his eyes closed. Belana could not pick up his feelings through the Force, but she could see that he was determined to go through with this now. It had taken her a sweet, long time to convince him that this trip was necessary for him to make. He had found numerous excuses to delay it. 

His voice, enchanting at any time, made her shiver as it danced gracefully on the melody of the ritual chant he had selected for this task. She felt compelled to reach out to him, to touch him, finding his call irresistible, but this song was not meant for her. 

He had explained the effects to her in great detail, but she had not wanted to believe that anyone could have such power as he did, even though she should have known better. The air around them began shimmering with a soft glow, and Belana stared as the chamber filled with the specters of beings long dead who gathered to listen. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, roaring furnaces of a powerful light that wanted to swallow the dead again. But he held the barrier firmly. She thought he was calm, hoped he was, but the task ahead would be hard on him. Belana almost called an end to it then, but too late. A tall woman, pitch-black hair spilling over her shoulders, detached from the crowd of specters and walked toward the man standing in the middle of the chamber. She moved with a grace Belana recognized easily, and she could see the same, calm strength in her green eyes that she could see in the man's yellow. 

"My son," the woman began softly, her voice a cool river of chiming bells. "You have called us and here we are. What is your request?"

"I have failed my people," he answered just as softly, and Belana could hear his pain in his tone. "I have failed my heritage. I have failed myself."

"Pride," the tall woman interrupted him harshly. "Far too much pride, my son. How dare you assume that what happened was yours to prevent? You knew you would fail and yet you insisted on taking the blame. Fool!"

He swallowed hard, but made himself meet her cold gaze. "I have tried to atone for that failure. Was that wrong too?"

"My son, you should have accepted our fate, and you should have remembered our lore."

"I did remember. Every day I did remember. I lived by it."

"You were destined to be a guide, not a leader, or a teacher. Life teaches lessons, my son, and it is your task to help people understand them."

"I now," he answered dejectedly. "I always knew."

Belana watched as another specter joined the pair in the center. He was a blonde man of solid, stocky build, and he looked as immovable as a rock. His emerald eyes were gentle and he was smiling. Belana recognized him instantly, and she found it not surprising at all that he had decided to speak in the other's defense. In fact, she had expected it. Hagen Dycos spread his spectral arms in a soothing gesture. 

"Knowledge is the essence of this man's accomplishments. Even though his motives might have been misled, he always made those he taught understand one way or the other. He did not fail in that."

"His motives are what matter," the black-haired woman snorted. "They were impure. Respect does not go well with pride, my son. You discarded respect for knowledge, for pride. You must learn to show respect again."

"That is why I am here."

"We will not stand in your way." Heeding her own words the woman retreated again, Hagen Dycos at her side. Kell watched them go with regret plain in his eyes, but then he drew himself up again and pressed his lips together tightly before he said:

"Exar Kun." The specter appeared gradually, fighting the magic of his voice all the way. But Belana knew that there was no escape. Looking the tall Dark Lord up and down pointedly Kell's face darkened with remembrance. 

"What do you want, traitor?" Kun demanded harshly, his features twisted in an ugly snarl. 

"I am Cor'dan. I am the guardian of life and death. You, master, were neither."

"Really. Are we a bit full of ourselves?" Exar Kun's grey eyes narrowed dangerously. "It was your decision to join me, and now you accuse me of what? Having coerced you?"

"No." Shaking his head Roj Kell closed his eyes briefly. "I knew what you were. I knew what you would do. It was my decision to let you live. I take the blame for that."

The Dark Lord laughed out loud. "So! You take the blame, do you now. Amusing. I don't remember your being so righteous before. Have the Jedi made you their lapdog now?"

"I was blinded by the rules of survival and forgot life over them. I should never have let you do what you did to the Massassi. It was wrong. And the reason why I left you."

"I thought as much. You never had the stomach for that," Kun sneered. "Well, looks like we have both paid the price for pride and failure."

"Yes. You have been here for millennia, neither dead nor alive. I am here to free you."

"Free me?"

"Respect for life requires that I honor the lives you took, but you must set them free first."

"What?"

"You sacrificed thousands to survive," Kell explained patiently. "I want them back."

"They were not your people, my friend! You have no right to interfere!"

"I have a duty to the Force, and I reclaim that duty now."

Belana smiled.

"Mother?"

She looked up pensively, but then recognition flashed across her gentle features. "Luke! Come in. Any news?"

"No, nothing." Stepping into the room gingerly he hesitated, and smiled. "Father is still out?"

"Yes. He said he can't sleep unless he finds Kell again."

Luke laughed. "And it is past midnight already." Dropping down in a chair next to hers he crossed his arms on the table-top and sighed. "Why can't he just let him go?"

She reached over to pat his right arm affectionately and shut down the datapad she had been studying. "What did Mon Mothma have to say?"

"She's concerned. And Leia equally so. You have met him up close. What do you think?" He studied her large eyes intently. For a second distant pain flashed across her mind, making him wince in turn. 

"I do not know," she replied at last. "In a sense I trust him to do the right thing."

"And in his case, what would that be?"

Mother smiled at him. "If I knew I would tell you. Where did you leave Nuron, by the way?"

"She's decided to get some rest."

"Maybe Anakin should take an example in her," Mother commented gloomily. 

Luke turned hs head toward the door and rose. "He's here," was all he said before he went to welcome his father. Striding into the room the Dark Lord seemed ill at ease. 

"No traces, nothing. As if he's vanished from this galaxy," he announced.

Looking up at him Mother raised her eyebrows coolly. "What if he is dead too?

"I wouldn't count on that." Anakin gave his son a scrutinizing glare. "Master Yoda advised me to let him go. Maybe I should heed that advice."

"Maybe," Mother conceded, but a smile was hiding at the corners of her mouth, making Luke wonder what advice his father had chosen _not_ to follow in the past.

"And besides, I have just received news from Chi'in. Apparently we are going to war again."

"What!" Rising from her seat quickly Mother stared at her husband in disbelief. "How so?"

"The Grand Admiral reports increasing movement in the Outer Rim. Something's going on."

"Does he still have the Executor?" Luke asked.

"I suppose he does. But relying on just one asset would be foolish and Thrawn is certainly not that."

"But he did not make an official request to the Republic, did he?" Mother inserted quietly. Always the politician, where Anakin still remained a warrior at heart. Luke smiled at the look his parents shared. 

"No, not yet. But if Chi'in believes it could be trouble we had better be prepared. Luke, I want you and Nuron to go and snoop around. Maybe you can find some clues."

"What about the others?" the young Jedi Knight asked, slightly surprised.

"I didn't get the impression that they have time to spare. Meet with Chi'in and the Grand Admiral and get some information back to me."

"Us," Mother reminded Anakin gently. 

"Yes, of course. I forgot that I'm not in charge anymore," the tall Jedi replied wrily. He started pacing the room restlessly, apparently still upset over yesterday's events. Suddenly he looked up again. "Where is Leia?"

"She left this morning, don't you remember?"

Slapping his forehead in mock embarrassment Father smiled. "I totally forgot about that!" A wide grin appeared on his face. "That so-called mission to Ithor? Leia will love it."

"No doubt that was what Han is counting on," Luke commented drily. Mother's smile widened.

"That man is full of surprises," she said and Luke frowned. 

"You know something we don't ?"

Clearing her throat she averted her eyes diplomatically, but Luke could feel that she would just have loved to spill that little secret. Yet he felt that he should not be the one to ask. Father stepped over to his wife nonchalantly and wrapped her in his arms tenderly, making no effort in disguising this subtle manipulation at all. 

"What did he say then?" he asked softly and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She giggled like a teenager and fended him off with a laugh.

"Well, since they are already gone I suppose there can be no harm in telling you," she explained and straightened her dress unnecessarily. A merry sparkle lit up her eyes spectacularly as she looked first at Anakin, then at Luke. "Han will propose to her on Ithor." Clapping her hands in joy she laughed again. "And he asked my advice! Who would have thought that Han Solo is such a perfectionist?"

Luke felt as if his face might split because he was grinning so hard. "Really? Wow!" 

"Well, this was to be expected," Father mused, sounding strangely pensive. "But, Ithor?" he grimaced slightly in disbelief. "I would have expected him to spirit her off to Corellia or something like that. Not Ithor of all places."

Leia and Han had found a place in one of the cozy little cafés dotting Treasure Ship Row among the many stalls and shops and more garish establishments that made up Coronet's major entertainment mall. Leia's eyes sparkled in the lights, and seeing her happy like that made Han's heart sing with joy. She looked so beautiful, almost radiant. The smile she directed at him over a dark red drink was warming his face considerably and suddenly he wanted some excuse to spirit her away to somewhere more private. Well, maybe an excuse was not really necessary. But when he leaned over the small table to suggest that they leave, Leia frowned fiercely at the passersby. 

"What's up, honey?" he asked softly. 

"That man," she answered under her breath. "I thought -"She shook her head, sending her long dark hair flying, but the low chuckle that followed was a surprise. "Oh, Han, I am sorry. Now I have spoiled the mood."

"No, no, that's okay," he assured her, but it was hard to hide his disappointment. The spell had been broken. Looking at him silently out of liquid brown eyes she made it clear that she did not buy his reassurance either. Han sighed. This was not going as well as he had had it planned. It had all seemed so grand. Make her go with him to someplace as enchanting as Corellia's capital, court her with extraordinary dinners, shows and gifts, and above all make her feel the most desirable woman in the entire galaxy. But somehow he had the feeling that he was missing his goal by miles. Leia was as charming as ever, but distant too. Did she miss her work that much? 

"Han," she began tentatively, then rallied herself and reached out to lay a hand on his. "It is wonderful, really."

"But? There's always a but, isn't there?" he answered drily. 

Burying her face in her drink she mumbled something he did not catch entirely, but he could see that she was smiling. "You know me too well," she said with a laugh at last.

"So, who was that you thought you just saw?"

"Magrody."

"What? The guy who thought up the Death Star? Nasdra Magrody? Are you sure?" Han twisted around in his seat to frown at the flow of passersby. 

"He's gone now, Han," Leia reminded him unnecessarily.

"Was he alone?" the Corellian asked suspiciously.

"No." Leia shook her head slowly. "There were four men with him."

"Escort or bodyguards?"

"Both, I believe."

Suddenly all thought of a romantic evening had been discarded for the old game Han knew so well. He heaved a tiny, tiny sigh. "Do we tell Intelligence or do we follow him nice and quiet?"

"I don't think Intelligence has assets here on Corellia. They haven't even signed the treaty yet."

The treaty. He should have known. When he had asked Leia to come on that trip with him she had insisted that she combine work with vacation, as if that would leave any vacation at all! So far he had been able to keep her from meeting officially with the Corellian government. The Liberty was waiting for a call outside the system, to back her claims up if necessary, but Han had wished and prayed that that day would be far away yet. Now though, with Nasdra Magrody here, Leia would focus on her job again. He supposed that she did indeed have a lot to do as the fledgling Republic's Minister of State, but so far it was all chaos anyway, and Leia had a hard time getting anything done. It had been like that for the entire past year and he just knew that she needed rest badly. They had never had a chance to even breathe since the war had ended, and he himself felt burned out. For Leia it must be far worse. Yet she had that look in her eyes, determination mixed with curiosity, that told him that behind that pretty forehead her diplomatic mind was ticking away again. 

"Then we follow?" He grinned roguishly. "Could be fun too, you know?"

She smiled tiredly. "I can't go gallivanting across the galaxy any longer, Han. I have my duties."

So it was going to be _that_ kind of discussion. "You can always quit, Your Highnessness," he told her mockingly, and amused himself with the outraged expression on her face.

"Han!"

"Sure, I understand," he sighed. "I'll go and see what I can find out, okay? Guess you'll want to pull a few levers with the big-wigs about this, so I'll see you tomorrow. Early. And don't run off, okay? I want another day of my vacation with you."

Leaning forward across the table she brushed a hand along his jaw gently and the smile she gave him was warm and loving. "Thank you, Han," she whispered softly. "You are the most insufferable nerf-herder I know, but I still can't help loving you." And then she kissed him.

Back on Coruscant Luke Skywalker stood at the ramp of the small yacht Morning Glory and tried to assure his mother that he would be all right. She seemed to believe that she had to make up for eighteen years of his growing up without her, never considering that her little boy was not so little anymore. It had become worse over the past three months for some reason. Fussing over him like a mother-hen she insisted on checking absolutely everything he had prepared for the trip to Niaruan, and Luke fervently hoped that she would be finished by the time Nuron came down to the hangar deck. It would be too embarrassing otherwise.

"Your father says that Chi'in knows the planet, so don't go off without him."

"Yes, Mother."

"You have packed supplies, haven't you? And the comm is functional? Does the ship have an emergency unit?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

She smiled at him. "I am getting on your nerves, am I right?"

"Y- no."

Mother gave a satisfied nod. "You are quick. That is very good, but I know I am a bit over-protective. Just tell me you will be careful, all right?"

"Of course!" he laughed and hugged her fiercely. "I will miss you."

"Then try to be back as soon as possible." That was typical for Mother. She managed to combine genuine concern with pragmatic thinking. As soon as possible? Luke shook his head with a wide grin.

"What? What is it?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Nothing, really," he assured her, then noticed a slender figure leaning in the doorway. Nuron was eyeing him with open interest, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the cold lights of the hangar. "Nuron," he called out and gently disengaged from his mother's embrace. She turned around to direct a warm smile at the young Zabrak warrior who was striding toward them at a leisured pace, a duffle-bag slung over her shoulder and her lightsaber dangling from the slim belt encircling her waist.

"Everything prepared?" she asked and gave Padmé a nod. Luke placed a quick kiss on her cheek, then drew her closer. 

"Of course everything is prepared. I was just waiting for you."

"Is that so? Good. Then we can leave. That is, if you are finished with him, my lady?"

"I am. Keep an eye on him for me, will you, Nuron?" Mother replied with a tiny smile.

"Do not worry. Nothing will happen to him while I am near."

Luke felt his cheeks flush red. Why did women always think men could not look out for themselves? At least the women he knew did, and Nuron was no exception, unfortunately.

"Then what are we waiting for?" he challenged, feeling a bit miffed.

"For me."

Looking up sharply Luke frowned at the tall man approaching them with fast, measured steps. Over the last year Father had not managed to shed his military stride that always made him look as if he were in a hurry. He simply could not slow down. Waving a stack of datacards in his left hand he closed in on the small group and lay an arm around Mother's shoulders almost absent-mindedly, his eyes fixed on Luke.

"What is that?"

"The files contain sensitive material. I am not sure if Thrawn does not already know about the contents and I don't trust any other courier or channel. So you will deliver these safely, all right?"

"You know me," the young Jedi mumbled and snatched the datacards out of Anakin's hand. His father smiled.

"Of course I do. That's why I gave them to you, not Jix."

"I thought Jix is off with Mara?"

"Yes, true."

"And you wouldn't want to interrupt their vacation, am I right?"

Father shrugged. "Fact is I cannot raise them. They will report back in when they're ready, which means when they get too bored with that easy life."

"And once they can be sure that you won't get at them for the chaos they produced back on Vjun?"

"Don't remind me," Anakin groaned. "Half of the systems are still offline. I wish I knew what they did."

"Mara said it might have been a virus," Nuron said quietly.

"No virus." Father snorted angrily. "The systems are secure, even more secure than the Coruscant Mainframe."

"And we know how much that helped Thrawn in the planet's defense last year," Luke reminded him.

"The codes, my son, you forget the master codes."

"Imperial Intelligence had your codes duplicated, remember?" 

Father laughed out loud. "Luke! Nuron planted those files where they could find them!" The young Jedi's face fell.

"Yeah. I remember."

Patting his shoulder amiably Anakin was grinning. "I know how it is," he said and winked in Nuron's direction. Luke blushed even more. 

"We need to go," Luke announced loudly, and grabbed Nuron's right hand, practically dragging her up the ship's landing ramp after him. "No need to worry. We'll check in when we're at Niaruan."

"Do that."

Standing back Padmé and Anakin watched the couple leave. The Morning Glory rose gracefully from its perch on the polished hangar floor and drifted out into the sky above Coruscant on a tractor beam that would guide them out of the atmosphere securely. He had wrapped his arms around her shoulder and hugged her very close, feeling her warmth and love, relishing in her strength. Closing his eyes briefly he rested his chin on top of her head. 

"So they're off," he said.

"Yes." Her sigh vibrated through his ribcage.

"I wonder if Han has proposed yet?"

He could sense her chuckle as she turned around and buried her face against his chest and hugged him around the waist. "Curious? I fear not knowing is going to kill you."

"Is it?" He kissed her forehead tenderly. "On the other hand we will have time for ourselves, without the children always nagging at us."

"You enjoy their attention, my dear, don't deny it. I know."

"Maybe I simply enjoy your attentions even more." She laughed at that.

"So, now that we have sent everyone on vacation, are we going to have one too?"

"Are you mad? There's too much to do!"

Someone cleared his throat discreetly behind them. "Lord Skywalker? My lady?"

"Piett!" Turning his head Anakin gave the Admiral a questioning glance. "What is it?"

The man stepped a little bit closer, and his gray eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Speaking of vacation, I am leaving today for Chandrila. Therefore Mon Mothma thought it a good idea to clear up a few things in a meeting this afternoon."

"A meeting. Who is attending?"

"The president, the chief security advisor, the senior analyst, the chief military advisor and yourself, of course."

"An illustre round. When?"

"An hour."

"Then we shall hurry," Padmè mumbled against his shirt. Anakin tried to keep his features blank.

"I will see you then." Piett gave a short military bow and turned away again. He walked away unhurriedly. 

"Sometimes that man is as stiff as-" Padmé began, then shook her head. "Chandrila? What does he want on Chandrila?"

"See his family, I suppose," Anakin answered quietly. "I believe his sister lives there, and his nieces."

He looked down at her face, into her big, brown eyes that looked slightly startled. "What?" he asked. "Everyone has a family somewhere, someplace."

"And you know all about it, do you?" She reached up to draw his head down to a level with hers and kissed him deeply. "I am happy that you are back with me, very happy," she said at last.

"I know. And I love that happiness. It makes you glow."

Anakin always found funny ways of telling her that he loved her, crazy little analogies and comparisons that were of such childish innocence that it melted her heart every time he said them. Her arms wrapped around him, she wanted to never let go again, wanted to crush him for the joy he gave her. Over the past months they had had a lot to make up for, a lot of stories to tell and secrets to reveal. A lot of hurt and relief, and even more love. It seemed just like yesterday that they had made their peace back on board the Wilde Karrde and found each other again, heart and soul. Since then she had been able to watch his progress as he had healed from wounds too deep and old to forget fast. If ever. The children had leaped on the opportunity to have both their parents at last and their honest questions and critique had helped break the barriers Padmé herself had erected to shield herself against further injuries. There had been a lot to learn for all of them. 

But now Anakin had regained all of his strength and vigor, all of his confidence. His arrogance had been diminished to a more bearable level. Almost his old self again. She smiled at the very thought, when he would be completely her Anakin again, the young man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. The love was still there, but a few shadows remained, mannerisms that were too reminiscent of his evil alter ego for her to bear or ignore. A few months back, in the aftermath of the war, she had feared that he would never be the same again, not entirely, but now she was almost certain that they could be completely happy together once more.

"Anakin."  


"Yes?"

"I want to go to Naboo with you."

"Who says I want to go?" he asked in some amusement.

"You!" She punched her fist in his stomach hard. "You are unbelievable!" Anakin merely grunted. "Let's go. Our hour is running short."

Tomas Piett arrived to the meeting earlier that the rest of the attendees, but he had had nothing left to do inbetween preparing his trip to Chandrila and leaving last instructions for his crew. Strange that he still thought in such terms, even though he had had to exchange a starship's bridge for an office in the forbidding structure that had once been Darth Vader's home on Coruscant. The fortress had been claimed by Security and Intelligence, taking advantage of the extensive facilities and available assets. 

Even though the Defense Council, to whom Piett as Chief Military Advisor answered directly, had its headquarters in the former Imperial Palace, he had chosen his new home there. But he had preferred staying with the people he knew, like Page and Jixton. And he missed life on a ship. Right now he envied his friend Lorth Needa immensely. 

Having declined a promotion, the Captain was currently leading the Second Fleet on a patrol close to the border to Imperial space. What was left of the pro-Imperial forces had gathered behind that frontier, perhaps going on about their lives peacefully, and maybe just waiting to strike back. Needa was making sure that the young Republic would not be taken by nasty surprises, and Piett sometimes wished that he could be out there with him, instead of stuck on Coruscant. 

Now, seated alone at the rounded conference table, he was idly drumming his fingers on the smooth surface, thinking. He had a fair idea of why Mon Mothma had called the meeting, but he was wondering how the others would react, especially the Dark Lord. The president was concerned about the future, and from what they knew, she should be. A fifth of the Imperial Navy had switched sides in the conflict with the Empire, and a few more ships had joined the New Republic each month ever since the war had ended. Still, that left them very vulnerable when it came down to sheer fire-power. Should the remaining Imperial commanders decide to lay their differences and ambitions to rest they could crush the New Republic easily. 

Until a few months back the New Republic had had the great advantage of having two brilliant strategists at its disposal to make up for that, but Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned to the Unknown Regions with the Executor and left a huge hole in their defenses. Anakin Skywalker undoubtedly would be up to any threat that might come at the New Republic, but Mon Mothma had made it clear to Piett that she would rather not rely on the former Sith. For publicity reasons, he assumed. Yet the problems on the military level were nothing compared to what was going on politically. The Hutts seemed bent on officially reclaiming the territory they had ruled at the times of the Old Republic. Palpatine might have tolerated them, but he had made it clear that the Empire ruled everywhere. Now planets like Tatooine, Ryloth and Arkadia were beginning to ponder their own future, free of the Empire, free of the Hutts. The New Republic had to decide whether it had an interest in bringing these worlds into their alliance. And a fragile alliance it was.

"Admiral, I should not be surprised to find you already here," a cool voice said from the door. Turning his head slightly he smiled at the newcomer, then rose to welcome her.

"Madam President."

"Please, do remain seated. This is no formal function, just a gathering among old friends and allies."

"Is it that? Really?"

She gave him a sad look. "I regret what I have to do, but there is no other choice. We must begin anew, and some bonds have to be broken before they can strangle us."

Piett's mouth twisted in disapproval. He might understand the necessity of her move, but he was not someone who forgot easily. When he had been promoted to the post of the Grand Admiral's aide and commander of his flagship back in the war, his loyalties had been to the Empire, and its prosperity his goal, but the Dark Lord had had his entire respect, along with Thrawn later on. Both warlords thought beyond the concepts of war, the Sith even more so than the Chiss. Now that the war was over, Piett had been given the chance to work in earnest on the concepts that would make this New Republic what Palpatine's Empire never could be: a haven; peaceful, prospering, with ideals that were just and that would endure over time and over the struggles that would undoubtedly come. Yet he also remembered well how Mon Mothma had treated her allies, how suspicious she had been. Was this her revenge on the Dark Lord?

"Perhaps we need that," he suggested quietly. "Perhaps we need the reminder of what it might cost if we forget what we stand for."

"Someone to watch the government? But who is guarding the watchers? No, Piett, we need to have a little faith. In ourselves and in the will of the people."

"So we put the war behind us and move on to the next topic."

"Nicely said," she answered with a small smile. "And I am sure that you for one will not forget. In contrast to certain other elements I trust that your ego will not lead you to take over command if you think I am steering off course."

"So sure of that? I betrayed the Empire, and yet you trust me?"

Mon Mothma gave him a pained look. "But you did not betray your ideals, Piett. Anakin Skywalker did," she added quietly.

Unfortunately that was all too true. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Not today. I believe that with Master Yoda's death he needs some time to find his own way first. There is no one left to be an example to him, except maybe for his son, and Luke is far too young to be taken seriously, even by his father."

"The princess?"

"I think he admires her, but she is an ideal he does not dare to approach."

Piett gave a soft chuckle. "I guess in that case we should be glad that Lord Kell is gone too. Imagine. 

If Lord Skywalker had taken his example..."

"Don't remind me! I am just glad that Chi'in and the others have already left. Now, the meeting starts in five minutes. Any last suggestions?"

"We will be late," Anakin whispered in her ear softly, his warm breath feeling incredibly good on the bare skin of her face. Sighing with regret she snuggled against him, her eyes still closed.

"They can wait a bit longer," she mumbled. He laughed at that, such a rich sound, with so many inflections. Padmé smiled up at him, taking in his scarred features fondly. Blue eyes clear and open, he was watching her, expectation plain in his gaze. How she loved those eyes. Craning her neck, she placed a leisured kiss on his lips. "Say 'please'."

"Please." He frowned down at her. "Padmé we have an appointment to keep, and you would not want to make a bad impression as Senior Analyst, would you?"

"Yes. You are right. Unfortunately." Disengaging from his embrace she rose and straightened her clothes self-consciously. "Let's go."

He got to his feet with a smile and gently pulled a stray strand of dark hair behind her left ear. "There. You look beautiful. As always."

"Perfect," she told him with a teasing grin. "Come on."

Anakin Skywalker could feel a slight tension as he entered the conference room on Padmé's heels. Three sets of eyes swiveled around to look at the couple. Mon Mothma was seated at the head of the table and she wore an earnest expression on her face. At her side Tomas Piett was smiling, but there was some worry in his eyes. The last one waiting was Telmann Page, newly appointed Chief Security Advisor, which was a pretty bland title for the Head of Intelligence, Anakin thought. He nodded at the trio and took a seat at his wife's side.

"Now that we are complete," Mon Mothma began without preamble, "we can start right away. Padmé, I know you haven't had much time to familiarize yourself with your new task, but rest assured that I will help you along. As you know Admiral Piett will be leaving for a few weeks, for personal reasons, and he has prepared a report for us. Admiral?"

Piett straightened abruptly and inserted a datacard into the holorecorder. Immediately the screens in front of each attendee lit up with a set of diagramms that also appeared above the table-top. "This is a comparison of our current military strength with what we assume the Imperial Remnant still has got out there. We can account for three warlords, but we are missing two Grand Admirals." Piett smiled coolly. "While I do not assume they could match Thrawn, each one of them could become more of a nuisance. We have twenty-five Star Destroyers, thirty Mon Calamari cruisers and a hundred corvettes, plus quite a few TIE and X-wing squads. All in all that accumulates to a fifth of the entire Imperial fleet. Our allies, that is those worlds who have supported us and have joined the New Republic's alliance, have their own resources, but few have competent commanders or competent troops. Well, I do not want our navy to settle local disputes while there are so many possible enemies out there, and I have a feeling our allies would not appreciate that either. So we need a program that will turn those 'incompetent' local forces into effective ones."

"Not all of them are incompetent, Admiral," Anakin countered calmly. 

"But enough are. The commanders are corrupt and their soldiers half-criminals," Mon Mothma injected. "Admit it, Lord Skywalker, there is a lack of discipline among those local troops, and they might become a danger."

"Agreed. Yet if you do not want to interfere too much with local politics, as you have stated in your acceptance speech for the presidency, as far as I recall, how do you mean to achieve that discipline? Hold seminars?" Padmé smiled at that, as he noted with satisfaction.

"No," Piett replied. "Not seminars. But we have to give the governments a reason to clear up the rubbish. They have to have an interest in their own security."

"That does not answer my question, Admiral."

"No, but it is an outline for the task I am giving the Senior Analyst, your wife." Mon Mothma nodded at Padmé gravely.

"A diplomatic mission? That needs thorough preparation," Padmé mused aloud, sounding pensive.

If Anakin did not know her better he would have thought she was nervous. Indeed, her hands were shaking ever so slightly. What was wrong? Of course. He hid a fond smile. She had not had a task of that magnitude ever since the rise of the Empire had forced her out of her post as senator. Back then she had handled first the affairs of Naboo as their queen and then the affairs of the Republic as senator. But that was a long time ago.

"Yes, very thorough preparation, that is true," Mon Mothma agreed gently, "but I have the greatest faith in your abilities. Admiral Piett suggests you concentrate your department's activities on the remaining Imperial forces, General Page."

The man nodded mutely. But he was watching Anakin expectantly. Undoubtedly he was wondering what the president had in store for her Senior Military Advisor. Well, he was not the only one. Giving Mon Mothma a long, hard look Anakin shifted his attention to Piett again.

"A good take on the current state we find ourselves in, but haven't you forgotten something?"

Piett gave him a faint smile. "What would that be?"

"The Court."

"Only very few members of the Imperial Court managed to get off Coruscant before Thrawn surrendered the planet to us. Some remain, surely, but they do not have any power to speak of," Mon Mothma explained. "I doubt that the warlords would put their lot in with those."

Anakin shrugged. "Nothing is impossible. I for one believe that we need someone to keep an eye on those vipers."

Nodding slowly the president smiled. "That job, Lord Skywalker, is for the Minister of State, and Leia is starting right now, with Corellia."

"I knew it!" Anakin exclaimed before he could catch himself and Padmé burst out laughing, while the rest eyed them wonderingly. Corellia! Anakin felt like laughing. Well, Leia and Han would undoubtedly have a lot of fun there.

She was curled up tightly on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the screen of her datapad, where multiple layers of code were streaming across a sea of black. In the background the sound of someone assaulting a keypad viciously rose over the din of the music drifting in from outside.

"What part are you working on right now?" she asked softly.

Looking up from his datascreen Abla gave her a startled glance that she noticed out of the corner of her eyes. "Section Alpha B. That's the neuronic processor."

"Yes. You are sure that the data will be compatible with that program?"

"Almost, boss. Once we have tested it we will know for sure."

"Of course. Have you started on the other material yet?"

"No. I need a more powerful system to handle both streams at once, and besides, the entire program will need something the size of the Coruscant Mainframe to run."

"I am working on that," she told him with a smile, but then her mood darkened again. "Maybe you should not have modified Anderland's program like this. He's still in tears over the changes you made."

Abla gave her a vicious grin. "Then he should have thought of that beforehand himself."

Shaking her head, Yana Dar hit a key on her keypad and switched channels. She frowned at the latest issue of Coruscant Daily that was flickering across the screen, her mind racing. "He's alive. Had I known I would not have let you slice into Bast Castle."

"I know how to cover my traces, Yana," he answered calmly. "And unless your Dark Lord is suddenly an expert slicer, we have nothing to fear. Not even if he was," Abla added for good measure. 

She was not listening any longer. Over the past three days she had felt another death, a great master, by the feel of it, a Jedi Master. The New Republic had not given a public announcement so far, but from what her sources had been able to tell her she could make an educated guess. Well, she had thought that Yoda had perished already ages ago, so his death did not really matter. What mattered though was the other presence that had vanished from the galaxy just hours behind the Jedi Master. 

He had flared up suddenly, a few months ago, a black bonfire so powerful it had shocked her to the marrow, before she had been able to confirm that he was not who she feared he was. No official announcement here either, but the New Republic had never acknowledged his existence officially. 

Roj Kell, Palpatine's master, with all probability the oldest being that had ever graced this galaxy. His presence had vanished as abruptly as it had reappeared from whatever depths the Emperor had hidden him in. When Yana had learned that he had fallen into the rebels' hands she had started working on a plan to have him brought to her. He could have helped her, and Abla for that matter, immensely. Well, too late for that. On the other hand, that left only Vader to deal with.

"Abla," she began softly, "I think we are ready for operation B."

"What operation B?" he asked, startled. Yana smiled at him. 

"Just tell Anderland to come and see me. In private. No need for you to know everything, my dear."

Leia walked into the luxurious flat Han had rented for them in the outskirts of Coronet. It was in a pleasant neighborhood, with gardens and parks sprinkled in between the neat houses and apartment complexes, and the flat itself was tastefully decorated and had a wonderful view over the city's skyline in the distance. They had not spent a lot of time in here over the past days, but what hours they had enjoyed the luxuries of the apartment, Leia remembered with a smile. She caught her own reflection in the tall mirror hanging in the hallway, a short, slender woman with long, chestnut hair falling over her shoulders almost down to her waist, and brown eyes that were far too knowing for her age. Well, she had a demanding job to deal with. Of course, the low-cut dress she wore right now was not really fitting for the New Republic's Minister of State. It had been a present, one of many Han had showered her with since their arrival on Corellia. 

She sighed heavily with regret. If Han uncovered anything useful tonight, their vacation would end quite abruptly. Nadra Magrody. Who would have thought? After the disaster at Yavin 4 the man had vanished somewhere, and Leia had secretly hoped that the Emperor would have had him executed for the Death Star's failure. Too much to hope, apparently. What was he doing here now? Corellia was among the first of a long list of systems that were teetering between wanting to become independent and joining the New Republic. And many, many more worlds were given no choice. Father had warned her and Mon Mothma both, that winning a war did not change anything really. It was just the chance to begin anew. The Hutts, for example, were pushing the remaining moffs out of their realm, but they had no intention of joining the Republic. Other worlds had already claimed that they would never surrender to rebels, and self-styled warlords and wanna-be emperors tried to take advantage of the chaos the war had left behind. 

It was a sheer impossible task the former rebels had taken onto themselves. Even with the Imperial navy on their side and a mass of worlds and systems joining every day, there was still so much wrong out there. One piece at a time, Mother had advised her, but Leia still burned with the impatience of the idealist she had always been and would always remain. She wanted changes now. Not possible, she knew, but was she not allowed to dream sometimes? Sighing again she walked into the living-room and called up the lights. The war had taken up almost all of her young life, and she had a feeling that this would never end. Not unless she retreated from politics, but that she could not do yet, if ever. Reaching behind her back, she started unbuttoning the dress, but a soft sound made her hesitate. 

Just the hint of a noise, but as she continued with the buttons she extended her senses carefully. There. She had not noticed the four presences before, too preoccupied with the almost encounter on Treasure Ship Row. Damn. The past should have taught her to be more cautious. Eyes flickering toward the comm console, she activated it with the help of the Force. The sudden alarm flaring through the strange presences was most satisfying. Using the moment of startled surprise Leia dived behind the sofa and took a deep breath, mentally mapping down the apartment and possible escape routes. Unfortunately a quick check confirmed what she had feared already. There were more people waiting underneath the windows and balcony. 

"Your situation is quite hopeless, Your Highness," a sweet female voice told her. Leia did not answer. Where had she left her lightsaber again? In the drawer back in the bedroom. She vowed never to let the weapon get out of her sight again. But she was far from defenseless even without it. Gritting her teeth she rose from her hiding-place slowly, hands raised level with her shoulders. Four people were confronting her, three men and a woman. The woman, black hair done up elaborately, gave her a small smile. "Very reasonable of you to surrender, Princess. You will accompany us now." That sweet voice and beautiful face were vaguely familiar, but Leia could not place her right away.

"Who are you?"

"Ah, you know better than that, don't you." The woman's smile widened. "Here's a proposal: if you do not struggle or try to flee, we will treat you with the utmost respect. If not, well, we have ways to keep you in your place."

The princess nodded slowly. "I suppose I should accept."

"I would strongly advise it, Leia." Waving the three men forward the woman turned away, undoubtedly to signal the rest of her cronies to come out. When the trio reached Leia, she whirled around her own axis and stabbed her right hand into one man's stomach, dropping him to the floor, while her left hand smashed into another's neck hard. It was a matter of seconds, but as long as her attackers outside were confused about what was going on up here she had a chance to surprise them. Vaulting over the sofa's back she evaded the third man's stun bolts easily before she made a grab for the woman to use her as a living shield. But she never made it. Leia hit the floor with a low grunt, her muscles slack. Damn! Composing herself quickly she tried to rid herself of the stun bolt's effects with the Force, but her mind was already slipping into dark oblivion. Before she lost consciousness she called out desperately. _Han!_

Looking down at the princess' slender figure, Roganda Ismaren smiled. She had not expected the girl to give up easily. "Take her to the ship," she ordered quietly before she left the apartment again. Outside in the hallway Erinin fell in step with her, his one eye studying her with open questioning. But he kept silent. He had been her bodyguard for the past eighteen years, after all, and she would never question his loyalty, even though it was not to her. They made their way to their speeder unmolested, and as they sped through the darkness toward the private port they had left their ship at, Roganda was staring out into the night moodily. Eighteen years. She had been patient, she had been calm. But now her master's death had freed her to carry out the revenge she had had to still over the past. Yet it had festered in her heart, making her life a constant misery. But now Mith'raw'noruodo would pay for his humiliating her, for his rejecting her, for what Palpatine had done to her afterwards. 

"Are you feeling well, my lady?" Erinin asked quietly as he drew the speeder onto the port's landing pad.

"Of course," she answered. "Everything is going well."

"His lordship will be pleased."

"I suppose he will be, at that." Roganda exited the speeder swiftly, not sparing one glance for her guard. "Once the princess is on board, you will set course for Nar Shadaa. We have an appointment to keep."

"Yes, my lady."

Storming up the ship's landing ramp, Roganda ignored everyone until she had reached her quarters. Irek was waiting for her, lounging in one of the chairs, his long legs hooked over the armrest. When she entered, he turned his head to look at her and smiled. He rose quickly, an eager expression lighting up his young face. "You are back! Everything went well?"

She patted his shoulder affectionately before she went over to take a seat on the sofa. "Yes."

"Then we have the princess?" Roganda nodded tiredly. After a while Irek walked over and sat down on the floor at her feet. "Mother, something is bothering you, I can feel it. What is wrong?"

"Nothing. I am just tired." Suddenly a thought came to her. "Where is Magrody?"

"The old man wanted to go into the city again," Irek said dismissively. "Don't worry, he' s not alone."

"I dearly hope not!" Roganda shouted impatiently. "He isn't back yet?"

"I don't know."

"Then go and find out, will you? I want to leave this planet tonight. Altara does not want to be openly associated with us, after all." Altara owned the port.

Irek jumped to his feet and nodded curtly. "I'll go," he said and turned away.

"Irek."

"Yes, Mother?"

"I told you time and again to keep an eye on Magrody. Don't be so careless again."

He inclined his head softly. "As you wish." And then he was gone.

Shoulders slumping, Roganda wanted to lie down and cry. She could feel him slipping out of her control ever so slowly, and although she realized that one day he would break free of her, she knew in her heart that he was not ready yet.

Han Solo was leaning against the wall of a nondescript building on the edge of Treasure Ship Row. He had lost sight of his quarry, and all efforts to find him again had yielded nothing. But it had been Magrody for sure. If he was here Leia had to do something about it. For once Han wished he had a mind like hers. What did the man's presence on Corellia imply? That the government had made a different deal already? Perhaps. He hurried over to one of the main boulevards and waved for a taxi. 

Leia would need to inform Mon Mothma, that was for sure, he only wished he had more to tell her than that he had lost the man again only an hour after they had spotted him. Well. Maybe he could still convince her that they should delay the inevitable until morning. The taxi deposited him in front of the apartment complex he had selected for his and Leia's vacation. The lights were on inside the living-room and Han smiled. Apparently she was still awake and waiting for him. 

He snatched the keycard out of his jacket and unlocked the house's main gate before he took the lift upstairs, his heart light with joy. If they only had tonight left he would not wait any longer. Tonight he would ask her to marry him. It might not be the perfect setting, or the perfect moment, but it would do for him, and hopefully for her too. Whistling under his breath Han opened the door. 

"Leia?"

There was no answer. Stepping into the hallway cautiously he unholstered his blaster and held it ready. He walked softly, trying to avoid any noises, but there was still nothing. "Leia!" he hissed, fear lurking at the back of his mind. 

The living-room was empty and there were no signs of a struggle. But the comm console was blinking discreetly. Han darted over to activate the recorder. He listened intently to the the short exchange of words between Leia and a strange woman, trying to ignore the rising anxiety. Kidnapped. Leia had been kidnapped! Sinking down on his haunches he hung his head in sorrow. He was too late. Why had he let her go back alone? Pounding the floor with his left hand Han Solo grounded his teeth in frustration. 

Well. There was no way he could turn back time, so he would have to do something to make all of this undone again. He nodded to himself determinedly, even though he was ready to cry. No one took Leia from him! No one! He gave the comm a mean stare. Then he rose and made his way to the port, to make a secure call from the Falcon's comm unit.

It was as bad as he had imagined. Sweating blood and water, Han tried to ignore the curses and insults Anakin Skywalker assaulted him with, and instead tried to get a word in. He was given no chance though. Ranting on, the Dark Lord proved very adept at making Han feel like a five-year -old caught with his hands in the entrails of his father's favorite speeder. At the same time Anakin made a supreme effort at soothing his wife, although he did not have much success with that, from what Han could hear. Padmé was in tears, and her sobbing got to Han even more than Anakin's tirade. As if his heart were not already torn to pieces. Suddenly he regretted having let Chewie off the hook so easily. Sure, the Wookiee had a right to go see his mate on Kasshyyk, but he needed him now, for Force's sake! 

"Lord Skywalker -"

"- allowed her to run off with such an incompetent, irresponsible smuggler! Solo! I will have your guts for breakfast!"

"Lord Skywalker," Han began anew, but the Dark Lord was not listening.

"-don't have to worry, dear, everything will be all right, you'll see. And, Solo, when I'm finished with that you'll wish your head were still on your shoulders so you could see what I am doing to your-"

"Shut up!" Breathing hard with anger and frustration Han gritted his teeth, but he would be damned if he would let the man rant at him as if everything were his fault. To his great surprise there was silence on the other end. "Now you listen to me for a change! I want her back as much as you do, and I am dying with worry over here, so don't give me those ridiculous threats, your lordship!"

"What do you propose instead, Solo?" The Dark Lord's voice sounded all too calm.

"Get her back."

"How?"

"I have contacts. Contacts outside of the Republic. They might know-"

"Nonsense. They know nothing. Nasdra Magrody is on Corellia? I doubt he's still there. Try to get into the port files. Ask Karrde for help, if you need it. Find out what ships left tonight. Even if they lifted from a private port they must have had notified authorities."

"What if the authorities were bribed?"

"That is your problem, Solo. I cannot leave Coruscant to help you, and with what you've told me I have other things to do than chase down Leia." 

Han felt his jaw drop. "What?"

"You heard me correctly. You are on your own in this. Maybe Intelligence can spare someone. The least I can do for you is notify Page. I will have the Liberty recalled. No telling what they are planning."

"Who is 'they'?" the Corellian asked, aghast.

"I have no idea yet, but I will find out, don't you worry. Skywalker out."

When the connection broke, Han felt loneliness and despair crash down over his head. Leia was gone! Damn! Damn, damn, damn! Tears were in his eyes as he struggled to his feet. What was he to do now? Slice into the port files? Hah! Skywalker had as good as admitted that Magrody was with whoever had kidnapped Leia, and that meant Leia wasn't on Corellia any longer. What was going on? 

Well, he would need someone who could do the job here on Corellia, and Karrde was the first who came to mind. Rallying himself Han called up the smuggler's code. It took him a while to answer the call. 

"Make it quick."

"Still your charming self, Karrde," Han grated. "I need your help."

"What's up?"

"What do you hear, Karrde? What rumors are floating about?"

"Ask Page. I make my deals with him."

"Why so hostile?"

"These aren't good times, Solo."

"Really. I need a good slicer to do a job for me. Someone trustworthy."

"I don't have any slicers under contract right now."

"I don't believe you, Karrde."

"That's your problem."

"Listen, Leia's been kidnapped by I don't know who, and I need someone to check Coronet's port files."

"The princess?" Suddenly Karrde sounded worried. "I didn't lie to you, Solo, but I may know someone who can help you."

"Who?"

"Abla Othana. He works for Yana Dar and he'll cost you, but he is the best. He'll get the job done in no time."

"Where can I find him?"

"Nar Shadaa. And, Solo, you need someone to watch your back there."

"What?"

"The Hutts are restive, Solo. I hear there's a bounty on your head. Something about a debt you have failed to pay to Jabba. The old slug may be dead, but his heirs still want what's his. Know anything about it?"

Han swallowed hard. "I may have an idea." 

"Good. Keep your eyes open. See you around."

As Karrde disconnected the call Han was staring off into the distance. Life was never simple, it seemed. He needed someone he could trust, someone who knew the fringe, someone who had the right connections. That left only one choice, really: Lando Calrissian.

Standing next to the comm console he felt completely numb, unable to move, unable to feel anything. He could hear Padmé crying softly, but he could not bring himself to face her grief. Instead he simply stood there, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes fixed into the distance, seeing nothing at all. Words could not soothe her, he knew, nothing would, until Leia was safe again. But what to do? He could not leave Coruscant, as per Mon Mothma's request, that was really an order, but how much he wanted to. He had every faith in his daughter, in her wits, her strength, her spirit. But faith meant nothing there and then. 

"Anakin?" Padmé's voice, terribly thin and soft with mourning. "What are we going to do?"

He kept silent, not knowing what to answer. There where no promises he could make to her.

"Ani?"

Force, how long had it been since she had last called him that? It seemed to have happened in another life-time, and in a sense that was even true. He could feel her mounting terror, could feel her mind slip toward naked despair. Shaking his head abruptly Anakin turned around to look at her. She was gazing at him, her eyes wide with hope. It would have been nice if he could have told her that everything would be all right, but that was unrealistic. To hell with reality!

"It will be all right," he said at last, forcing himself to sound confident.

"Liar." She said it fondly, taking the sting out of the word.

"No, not at all. Leia is a very capable woman; she is our daughter, after all." Extending his arms toward her he smiled. "Come here."

Her grateful smile warmed his heart with its sincerity. Rising from her seat she walked over to him. Wrapping her up tightly in his embrace Anakin again felt the strength her love gave him and it amazed him how she always managed to make him feel so special , so very good.

"What is the plan?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled.

"The plan? Let's see. You and I have a lot of assets at our disposal, and we will make good use of those that don't endanger the New Republic. But you must promise me something."

Looking up at him Padmé frowned prettily. "Promise what?"

He smiled at her. "I know you, my love, you are very brave, you don't panic easily. And we won't let anyone or anything get us down. Promise?"

For a few heart-beats there was silence. Then she said. "What are we going to do?" 

"I don't know exactly yet. I have to find out what they want first."

"You told Han the same. Who are you talking about?"

"Listen, Padmé, no one kidnaps the Minister of State with no reason. It could just be for ransom, but I doubt it. What is left?"

"I have a suspicion."

"Tell me, then."

"They could try to use her to topple the government, but they should know that it takes more to scare Mon Mothma. The other possibility is to keep you from going for their throats when they move into the open."

"This will be diffuclt ," he announced with a sigh and stopped his pacing to wrap his hands around her head and ruffle her hair gently. "I knew this was too good to last."

"What is it they plan?"

"If I knew... "

"Anakin," she began tentatively.

"What?"

"Promise me -" she took a deep breath. "Promise me that you will not do anything rash. You will do what I say, you will follow where Mon Mothma leads. I do not want to lose you again, all right?"

"Not if I can help it." He sighed wistfully. "I guess this means we can forget about that second honey-moon."

TBC


	3. Chapter 2 - The Making of Plans

****

Chapter 2 – The Making of Plans

Waking up from deep slumber, Leia tried to work some moisture back into her mouth. She scanned her surroundings thoroughly, even though there was not much to see. A nondescript room with a narrow bunk, a small window that showed her starlines streaming by, a fresher stall and a door. Shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness that still remained, Leia sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk to rise. Her stomach rumbled at her demandingly. She got to her feet gingerly, feeling as if she were balancing on a thin rail above a black abyss. It felt strange, but she put it down to the after-effects of the stun bolt, and maybe some mild drug. Nothing she could not handle. 

Her eyes sought the bunk again longingly, but she refused to give in to weakness. Instead she walked over to the window and leaned her head against it. Reaching out to the stars, the way her father had shown her, she made herself feel them, feel the invisible field connecting them. He had claimed that it was possible to touch the Force anywhere, if one only knew how to listen properly, and right now Leia was smiling as she let it fill her consciousness, washing away her weariness. Would she be able to call out to her friends and family? Would Luke be able to hear her? Her father? She tried, forming words in her mind. _Luke! Father!_ There was no reply. Perhaps they were too far away. 

Her mind open to the Force and her surroundings she picked up the presence approaching easily. He was nervous in an absent-minded sort of way, and his thoughts seemed to be drifting in several directions at once. Turning toward the door Leia composed herself, wondering if she looked as regal and calm as she felt. She wore her confidence like a shield, but when the door opened she was almost disappointed to see that it was only Nasdra Magrody. The elderly man looked at her in confusion, then gave her a small, friendly smile. 

"They said I was to bring you to their quarters," he began in a soft, slurred voice. Leia winced. He was obviously drugged. 

"Lead the way," she answered coolly and nodded at him. He turned around and started walking down the hallway. Following him, Leia studied the corridor closely. She could try to get to an escape pod or something, of course, but while they were in hyperspace, any attempt to flee would be useless anyway. Suppressing a sigh, the princess tried her best to scour her memory for any ship type with a set-up like this one had. None came to mind during their short trip.

"We are here," Magrody announced suddenly, stopping in front of a cabin door that opened immediately. Leia recognized the woman who sat on her chair like a queen, a slender boy at her side. The black hair and fair skin made him her son. His blue eyes though were a stark contrast to her almost black gaze, and they were far colder than hers. Stepping into the cabin, Leia smiled in imitation of her father. He always managed to upset people that way. 

"Thank you, professor," the woman said sweetly. "That will be all." She waited until Magrody had disappeared again, closing the door behind him. "Princess, it is an honor to have you with us."

"Maybe you will tell me now who you are and what you want from me?" Leia asked calmly, refusing to acknowledge fear or anxiety. 

"Of course. You do not recognize me, do you?"

"Should I know you?"

"Perhaps. We have not been formally introduced. My name is Roganda Ismaren, and this is my son, Irek."

Leia stared. Roganda Ismaren? She remembered her now, one of Palpatine's concubines, met at one court function or other. Leia had been a girl back then, attending those functions at her father's side, usually, and she had had no interest in making the acquaintance of that exquisite group of women that had always seemed to cluster together, watching the others watch them, like some strange, exotic creatures. Her son? Leia's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy more closely. She estimated him two years younger than herself, but there was a darkness about him she found unsettling. Suddenly it came to her. He was Force-sensitive. Well, if his father was who Roganda's past hinted at, this should not have come as a surprise. Palpatine's heir? Maybe. Leia' mind was racing with the possibilities. But then she stopped herself again. Why speculate when Roganda was right there to answer her questions?

"I remember you," she said at last. "And perhaps I should not be surprised that you chose to abandon Coruscant before the Alliance conquered it."

"That was no conquest, my dear. It was a treasonous plot designed by your father and the Grand Admiral. Surprised? I know who you are, and what you are," Roganda countered coolly. 

Leia shook her head. "Why should I be surprised? This has been public knowledge for the past months. I know your kind. I have to deal with them every day. I have heard far worse than this." She smiled again. "So, what do you want? Your son to take his rightful place as Emperor?" The boy gave a soft snort and his mother shot him an icy glare that told Leia a lot of things.

"You may mock me as you wish, Princess, but I am not alone with my views. There are many who still believe in the Empire."

"And many more who curse the Emperor's memory. Whatever you are planning, Roganda Ismaren, you can only fail."

"On the contrary." Reclining in her chair the small woman was smiling warmly. "My son will take what is his, and no one will be able to stop him. Not you, nor your father."

"So it is him you are afraid of? I should have known this was your reason for kidnapping me."

"An insurance, in a sense, yes. But rest assured that we will not harm you more than necessary. Perhaps, when you know everything, you will even come to understand our cause. And join it."

Leia laughed out loud. "Your master has taught you well, Roganda Ismaren. But if even he could not convince me, I doubt you can."

Those black eyes flashed with fury for a second. "We shall see about that, your Highness. Very soon."

"This is unfortunate," Mon Mothma was saying. "I never should have allowed her to leave on that vacation."

"She is her own woman," Padmé countered mildly. 

"And Minister of State," the other woman insisted. They were seated together in the president's office, the tea growing cold in the cups standing on the desk in front of them. Mon Mothma sighed. "I have had Admiral Piett recall the Liberty before he left. He agreed with your husband. If Corellia is involved in this conspiracy, they might have taken the ship's presence as a hostile act and an excuse to refuse any talks with us."

"We do not know if it is a conspiracy yet. Anakin is preparing an investigation, but I fear he does not know where to start."

"What does Page say?"

"He is following Anakin in this. He's the schemer, after all. Once the course is clear, Page will take over."

"A schemer," Mon Mothma mused aloud. "Yes. He is well, I hope?"

"He is holding on to his temper, yes. But he is as worried as I am, maybe even more so."

"I understand. I am worried too, and not only because of Leia's disappearance."

That got Padmé's attention. "Is there something we should know?"

"No, not yet. It is the same your husband has warned me of when we founded this government. The war has not changed anything. The Core worlds might support us, but only because they were hit the hardest. A few others, like Chandrila and its neighbors, are with us too. The rest though..."

Padmé smiled. "So Piett isn't going on vacation, but on a diplomatic mission, am I right?" 

The other woman nodded. "I see I did well in making you Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs."

"Then you should trust me far enough to keep me informed about such things." Padmé saw the uncertainty flicker in Mon Mothma's eyes. "You are worried that I would tell my husband?"

"To be honest, yes. This might sound foolish, but I always feel that he is measuring me by his standards, and I cannot match those. So, if I am to do my job properly, I have to make sure he knows as little as possible about what I am planning."

"Why can't you just accept his advice?" Padmé asked quietly.

Giving her an incredulous look Mon Mothma shook her head. "Because then I might as well admit that he is running the New Republic. I won't do that, Your Highness. I gave a promise to the people, and that includes protecting them from your husband. No, let me finish," she said when Padmé opened her mouth to protest. "I know your husband to some extent, I believe, but most still see a tyrant in him, a butcher, who is still alive purely on sufferance, and because he has atoned for the past by helping us win the war. He will not ever manage to shed that reputation, no matter what he does. Maybe the next generation, or the one after, will be able to give him credit for what he has gone through, what he has endured to achieve peace, but our history will be written in the future, and right now Darth Vader is still alive in the minds of everyone."

"Force help me, I know," Padmé whispered, tears in her eyes. "I wish it weren't so. But you must trust his expertise. You did so in the past, and he has not disappointed you."

Mon Mothma gave her a gentle smile. "You do not understand. I am President of the New Republic. This is my war now, not his. He has done what he could, but now we need others to take over. I have the support of the navy, I know, but they will not be needed in the battles to come. Those will be fought on a diplomatic level. I need you, your daughter, your son even. Mediators, not warriors." She leaned forward and placed a hand lightly on Padmé's forearm. "Will you tell him that?"

She swallowed hard, then nodded. "I will." Anakin would not be pleased. Not pleased at all.

They had left Yavin behind weeks ago, but Belana was suddenly not certain anymore if she had achieved anything there at all. Her eyes were dark with sorrow as she gazed out over the battle-field that went on for miles and miles. She turned her head to look at the tall man standing at her side in the cramped cockpit of the small yacht he had stolen from Coruscant what seemed like years ago. 

"Was that necessary?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." He did not look at her.

"Why?"

"There is no 'why', Belana. I do what I feel is right."

"You killed I don't know many out there. What has that got to do with respect for life?" She was trying hard not to start shaking with the magnitude of what he had just done. Had she misjudged him? If so, she had unleashed a monster on this galaxy that no one would be able to stop. 

He sighed deeply. "You do not understand."

"No." Belana shook her head firmly. "It is you who does not understand. You told me that you want to return to your duties, that you want to remember life over survival, that you would respect it."

She almost screamed when he seized her very suddenly, holding her head in his hands, his pale green eyes locked with hers. "You are a Jedi, Belana. You do not understand death at all. And don't give me that crap about there being no death, only the Force. If that were so you would not try to protect life at all costs."

"Let go," she said very calmly, but inside she was seething with outrage. He had admitted his errors, had realized his mistakes, only to return to his old self again as if nothing had happened, as if none of it mattered at all.

"It does matter, Belana. You reminded me that there was more to survival than I remembered, that feelings play an important role since they spark the desire for survival, the will to go on. You are no survivor, Belana. You would let your enemies strike you down for fear of falling to the Dark Side. You have forgotten the joy of being alive, the joy of pure being. You have given up part of yourself, just as I did."

"I respect life, Kell, and if I were under attack I would defend myself, just as I would protect the defenseless."

"Then don't judge me!" he roared. His right hand slipped around her neck and pushed her toward the viewport. Belana gasped in indignation. He should not be able to manhandle her like this, but somehow the most basic rules of physics did not apply to him. "Watch," he ordered coldly and flung out his left hand toward the wreckage outside. Belana did not know how long it took, but once the images faded and he let go of her again, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Seeking his cold-eyed gaze, she shook her head in denial. 

"That is not right," she managed at last.

"It is life, Belana. Life hurts sometimes, and to respect life means to respect death too. Death itself is not evil."

"You are making this too easy, my friend," Belana whispered. "You cannot justify those deaths with the future. Would you kill a child just because he might turn into a murderer someday? Where do you take that right from?"

"I would never harm a child, no matter what it might become."

"Kell," she shook her head again, this time in sorrow. She understood now why he had become so cold, why he had shielded himself with logic and reason, had locked up his emotions so tightly that they became part of someone else, someone distant. No living mind could cope with this knowledge otherwise. Once upon a time his innocence and ignorance had been his sole protection, the only one he had needed. But with all that had happened, how could he stand this without going mad in the process? Could he finish his journey at all? 

"I know what you are thinking," he said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts mercilessly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Here's a proposal: from this day on I will follow your advice, but under one condition."

"What condition is that?"

"You know now what I am, what my purpose is. I want you to keep that in mind. You promised to stay with me to the end, but I can only finish this if you let me do what I must. Do you agree?"

She nodded numbly. "I agree. Then I will be your conscience when you forget yourself. But don't expect me to share your view."

"I never would," he answered mildly, and for a moment Belana found herself wishing that she had killed him all those years ago. 

As expected, Marten Anderland did not understand the reason for her request, but Yana did not care as long as he got the job done. Seated on the sofa, she gave him a level look that should have shown him what she thought of his protests, but the slicer was not very quick on the uptake sometimes. Fidgeting with his hands, he shrugged uncomfortably, but his face betrayed his emotions clearly. 

"It's just not right, boss," he said again.

"But you can do it."

"Yes, of course -"

"Then why are we holding this discussion, Marten? I am just asking you to hack into the Coruscant Mainframe. That's a piece of cake, as you yourself assured me just a moment ago."

"But planting false information... It just isn't right."

"No one will get harmed by that. Much. The same cannot be said of you if you don't get going right now." She arched an eyebrow meaningfully. "Clear?"

"Yes, boss. Clear," he sighed and his shoulders slumped in quiet defeat. Yana suppressed a smile. Marten was an expert slicer, but he had no backbone, none at all. Which was why she did not tell him anything beyond what his tasks were. 

"Good. On your way out you can tell Abla that I want to see him at once. And tell Sharam that she can get me another drink."

"Sure." Walking away dejectedly Marten was the very impersonation of hurt.

Shaking her head at his retreating back, Yana Dar rose from her seat. She had been cooped up in here for far too long already. It was time for her to have some fun, but perhaps there was a way to combine fun with the work she still had to do. 

Sharam, her Twi'lek servant, came bustling in and left a tray with a pitcher and glasses on the table. A moment later Abla came in, dark eyes looking at her in a silent question. Yana pursed her lips thoughtfully as the door closed behind him. 

"Anything I can do for you?" he asked softly. 

"Yes." Walking over to him she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. "You will get an offer for a job to perform on Corellia. You will accept it."

"Corellia?" he sounded surprised. "You want me to go to Corellia?"

"No, dummy, I want you to get that job done. Ten thousand credits worth, I believe. All yours."

"Wow. Sounds like a treat." Abla was smiling now, and his joy was infectious. Yana laughed.

"Yes, it does." Snuggling against him she closed her eyes. "But alas you will be on your own in this. Our guests are arriving tomorrow and I will be leaving with them for Yaga Minor soon. I hope you don't mind."

"As long as you stay out of trouble, girl."

"Don't worry." She sighed as he started kissing her shoulders tenderly. "Have you made any progress in tracking down Magrody?"

"Not yet. I have made inquiries that might turn up some leads eventually."

"Eventually. Maybe I will find out something tomorrow. We need him."

"I know."

The door slid open almost noiselessly, and Yana growled deep in her throat, angry at the unwelcome intrusion. "Sharam," she snapped as she caught sight of the alien woman over Abla's shoulder. "What is it?"

"His Exalted Highness Joral requires your presence, mistress," the Twi'lek answered demurely, her eyes cast to the floor.

"Does he now," Yana muttered under her breath. "Very well. Six hours. Tell him that."

"Yes, mistress."

Once she had disappeared again Abla's eyes darkened. "What does that Hutt slime want now?"

"I have no idea yet," she replied cautiously. She had her suspicions though. It was no secret that the Hutts were aiming at building their own little Empire, and Joral had dealt with her often enough to have some clue as to how extensive her network really was. With her headquarters in his proximity he had a good position in making claims to being her most-favored customer. He might be useful, but dangerous too. Well, she simply would have to be careful then. Giving Abla a slow smile, she traced her index finger along his jaw gently. "Would you help me get dressed?"

Five hours later she stepped down the landing ramp of her personal yacht Firebird, accompanied only by Sharam. Abla had insisted she take some guards with her, but Yana knew how to play on the Hutt's vanity. He would like seeing her helpless and deferential, and she would give him just that. As long as 

he thought her knowledge useful, he would not harm her, that she was sure of. His majordomo, a fat Twi'lek by the name of Haman, was waiting for her amidst a contingent of Gammorean guards. Yana raised her eyebrows in surprise, but did not comment. 

"His Exalted Highness Joral sends his greetings, Mistress Dar," Haman began, his oily voice as disgusting as ever. He was ogling her openly, and that in itself was even more of an outrage. True, she had chosen her attire for complimenting her figure, but that was for Joral, not his lackeys. Well, Joral would learn of this. Nodding carefully she gave Haman her coldest stare.

"I thank his Highness. Why the escort? Have things turned that bad on Nal Hutta?"

"Not at all. But his Highness wants to extend his courtesy to you, as he would to any ambassador."

"How thoughtful of him." Yana smiled. "Then my thanks must be tenfold. If you would take me to him now?"

"Of course. Transport is waiting outside."

Han Solo was putting on his best face as he was put through to Baron-administrator Calrissian. Who would have thought that a man like Lando would become respectable one day? Lando was a con-man, or had been when he was younger, but apparently he had now decided to do something for his retirement after all. At last the still image of the Bespin Corporation's logo dissolved into the baron's darkly handsome face. He gave Han a long look before he nodded.

"Good to see you again, Han, although it comes a bit of a surprise."

"Really? Well, I thought I might want to say hello."

"And spend a mass of credits on a long-distance hypercomm call? Encrypted, as I notice. What's up?"

Han scowled at him. "Well, since we are done with the pleasantries, I need your help."

"My help? Who's been running across the galaxy playing hero with Chewbacca? No, my friend, I am too old for this."

"Listen, it is urgent."

"Government job?" Lando asked suspiciously.

"No, personal."

"Oh," his friend brightened up. "What happened?"

"That's kinda what I wanted to ask you. Can we meet someplace private?"

"Where are you?" 

"On my way in."

"In?" Lando frowned at something off the screen. "I see. Always good for nasty surprises. I'll have someone escort you over. Is that the Falcon?"

"Of course," Han replied, scandalized. "Think I would exchange her for any other ship?"

"Make your request and I might make you an offer," Lando said with a grin.

"No way. The Falcon's mine," the Corellian growled.

"We'll see for how long. See you later, Han."

So Han found himself following Bespin Security Patrolboats into the cloud-ridden atmosphere of the planet. The sun was playing along the white mist rising from the gas mines, and the gas itself magnified the different hues of the light. It was a magnificent view, and Cloud City, the planet's only major town, rose into the sky like something unreal. It floated on repulsors above the surface, a gigantic umbrella that shone in metallic gray and white as the Falcon drew closer. Han was smiling despite himself. This truly looked like a magical place. And perhaps here he would find the assistance he needed to get Leia back. 

Settling the ship down on one of the city's landing pads, he exited cautiously. No one was waiting for him. He closed in on the blast doors, feeling slightly uneasy. Lando was not exactly a good friend. He had been, a long time ago, but so much had happened that Han could not be sure if he would help him. He could hardly turn back now, though. He had to try, for Leia's sake. 

The door slid open to reveal a bald-headed human who turned out to be a cyborg on second glance. A blinking interface module encircled the back of his head from ear to ear and he gave Han an expressionless look before he turned around, apparently wanting the Corellian to follow. 

Walking through the bright hallways of Cloud City, Han felt strangely elated. It was beautiful - truly so. People were milling along the corridors inside and generous walkways outside, a mix that appealed to Han. They all looked peaceful enough. Lando probably did not allow any thugs in Cloud City. They crossed a domed plaza that sported rows upon rows of balconies seemingly reaching up into the sky and groups of people dotted the square, talking among themselves, haggling, perhaps. They certainly had the air of traders. The Corellian grinned to himself. Lando was probably finding some ways of relieving them of their credits. You could take the con-man out of the fringe, but the con-man remained. 

Then a piece of conversation drifted over, almost making Han stop dead in his stride.

"... know that as well as you do. The question is, how is Joral dealing with it?"

It were not the words themselves, but the voice. Deep and resonant, it seemed designed to captivate the attention of any listener. Han had heard it only once before, and that one time had been enough to never let him forget the owner of that voice. Roj Kell. 

Turning his head carefully he threw a quick glance over the crowd, and he thought he could make out someone in the back, a tall man with long, white hair, but then the cyborg had already led him out of the chamber again. Han suppressed a shiver. Kell was dead, or so he had believed. He would have to ask Lando if he knew anything. And he needed to warn the Republic. There was no telling what the old man was up to, if that really had been him, if he really was alive.

The cyborg entered a turbo-lift, waiting for Han to join him. They went three levels up and found themselves in another hallway, this one empty. The cyborg gestured toward a tall door and nodded. Han went ahead and pressed the door controls.

"Han." Looking up from his desk Lando Calrissian gave him a warm smile. "It's been a long time."

Han nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's true. You've done well, it would seem," he said, taking in the rich surroundings pointedly. Lando laughed.

"Well, we all do what we can. Han Solo, hero of the Rebel Alliance, I hear. You've done pretty well yourself, except for your in-laws, maybe."

"Not yet, not yet," Han sighed wistfully and dropped down in a chair that sat opposite from the desk. 

"You say you need my help," Calrissian began again, more serious this time. "If this has anything to do with the Imperial renegades..." 

Han waved his hand dismissively. "They've kept pretty quiet over the past year and we pick up deserters almost every day."

"I wasn't really talking about the military."

"What?" Sitting forward Han was staring at his friend. "What do you know?"

"Bespin is a haven for everyone who wants to make easy deals, without legal burdens, you understand. Doesn't Karrde know?"

"If he does, he didn't tell me."

Lando smiled smugly. "Ah, interesting. Well, I hear a few things, and they tell me that something's afoot. Something big."

"You can't get any more precise, can you."

"Not yet. Sorry."

"Do you know Yana Dar?"

Calrissian's face lit up. "A very charming lady. Runs her business from Nar Shadaa, very successfully too."

"Can you get me into contact with one of her people?"

"Who?"

"His name is Abla Othana."

"The slicer? That will cost you. He's the best there is."

"Never mind the credits. This is important."

"Well, I can set you two up, no problem, but I want to know why. You said it was personal?"

"I'd rather not tell you."

"Come on!" Lando spread his arms theatrically. "Don't you trust me?"

"Well -"

"All right. A deal then." Lando fixed him with a non-nonsense glare. "I will get you Abla and no questions asked if you tell me what this is about the New Republic preparing for war again."

Han's jaw dropped. "I know nothing about that," he managed at last. "Who started that rumour?"

"I have no idea. So you don't know, eh? What about Vader?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I'm not suicidal. All right, Han, here's the deal: Abla for that piece of information. You've got the connections, and it would mean a lot to me to know for sure."

"Done." Han extended his right hand and Lando took it, squeezing hard. "And now you can tell me what this talk about Joral is about."

Lounging on a heavy stone dais Joral's dark brown bulk almost merged with the gloom that filled his reception hall. Only his golden eyes were clearly visible, and they seemed to want to pierce into her head as she walked closer and stopped at a respectful distance. Bowing slowly Yana was smiling to herself.

"Your Exalted Highness, how may I serve you?" she began formally. He boomed a thunderous laugh.

"In many ways, esteemed Yana Dar, but there is one request I have to make that takes precedence over all others."

"What request is that?"

"You know my plans for the future, Yana Dar, but those plans will not come to fruition without your assistance."

"If you need information I will certainly make a special price for you," she told him with a teasing smile.

"Not information, little human," Joral replied. "I need you to perform a service for me, a small mission."

Yana gritted her teeth. Who did he think he was! But aloud she said: "I am sure we can come to an agreement. What mission is that?"

"I hear many things, Yana Dar, and of late I hear that the Minister of State of the New Republic has disappeared."

"I hear the same."

"Then these rumours are true?"

"They are highly probable," she conceded cautiously. If he suspected that she knew more than he did on the matter...

"I want you to find out where she is and bring her to me. If you do the job no one will suspect me. No one must suspect, Yana Dar, if my plans are to succeed."

"Find her?" She blinked her eyes in surprise. It was not even all fake. "That will take time, Your Highness."

"I have faith in you, Yana Dar."

"An honour," she murmured softly and bowed again. "If I may ask though, what purpose does this mission have?"

"The New Republic will move against us." Suppressing a startled 'what' Yana kept her features blank. That was new to her. She would have to confirm that rumour with her sources on Coruscant immediately once she was back in her office. "If we have the Minister of State we can convince her that we have the means to make that war very bloody."

"And anger her father in the process. Not very healthy that," Yana reminded him.

"Ah, but the esteemed Mon Mothma will not dare unleash him again, lest she lose the support of her allies."

"The navy is on his side more than hers. How do you propose to keep them in check?"

"Do not worry yourself with that, Yana Dar. I trust you will find out soon enough anyway, but for now you need not know more."

She gritted her teeth in frustration. "Of course. Then I shall leave and prepare that little mission for you. With your permission?"

"Of course. Visit me again soon, Yana Dar. I enjoy your company immensely."

That she did not doubt.

On her way back to Nar Shadaa Yana was busying herself with speculations on who might have spread that rumour about the New Republic, and to what purpose. The first who came to mind was Talon Karrde. He had excellent business ties to the new government, but he would not reveal sensitive information if they were not meant to be revealed. Right now she could see no way how such a rumor might benefit the New Republic though, except maybe to keep the Hutts from gaining allies. 

Allies. She could not see Joral accepting any ally at all, at least not on equal terms. Suddenly she wished that Abla and Anderland had already finished their work on the program. She needed that knowledge badly, especially now that circumstances seemed to be changing. 

Another thought came to her. If Ismaren had heard that rumor too, she might not want to come to Nar Shadaa. 

"Sharam," she said softly. "Have there been any calls in my absence?"

"None, mistress."

"Good. If Roganda Ismaren calls I will speak to her without delay."

"Yes, mistress."

Of course, if Ismaren herself was the instigator of that rumor, things looked very different. Leaning back in her seat, Yana permitted herself a tiny smile. With all the various fractions she had to handle, life would not get boring too soon, that much was clear. Good. She hated boredom almost as much as she hated the Hutts. But Joral did not suspect anything yet and she would make sure that he remained ignorant until it was too late. 

"You already talked to Karrde?" Padmé shouted, face red with anger. She seldom lost her temper, but when she did it truly was a sight to behold. Anakin merely shrugged. "I asked you to do what I tell you to, Anakin," she continued more calmly, but she was still furious, he could sense that easily. "Have you forgotten your promise already?"

"There was no time to ask for permission first," he countered, mentally preparing himself for another outburst. It did not come. And the expression on her face, a mixture of disappointment and regret, made his skin crawl with concern. Had he gone too far? Padmé shook her head slowly and sank down on her chair with a drawn-out sigh.

"You are not making things better this way. Why did you do that anyway?"

"I could only think of three factions who might profit from Leia's disappearance. One, the Imperial warlords we haven't managed to get on our side. Yes, I know they've kept to themselves, but if they think our attention might be focused elsewhere, we could goad them into making a fatal move."

"Far too risky. Anakin, they have enough fire-power to rekindle the war, and Mon Mothma won't let you command the fleet again. The New Republic would be easy game if they move fast enough. And you want to provoke them?"

"Just listen, okay? The second faction are the remnants of Palpatine's court. They might merge with the military, maybe they already have, but I know for sure they would only grudgingly agree to share power with the army. If they believe we are targeting the Hutts, they might also make the same mistake and try to find allies against us. Should they put in their lot with the warlords, they'll wait until our back is turned, too."

"I see. And the third?"

"The Hutts, obviously."

"What's the catch here?"

"If they have Leia, they will produce her soon enough to keep us away. If they are smart though, they won't do that."

"Then we have gained nothing. Anakin, this is all speculation." She frowned at him. "Or is it?"

Anakin smiled broadly. "Well, not entirely. Solo called. He had some news."

"What news?"

"First, he has found himself a slicer and he wanted money to pay him off. So don't be alarmed if our account dwindles a bit. I gave him the codes." Now Padmé looked amused. "What?"

"Nothing, dear. I just thought for someone who threatened to rip his heart out, among a few other things, you are surprisingly generous."

"Well, she is my daughter too. And Solo has his good sides, admittedly. Sometimes."

"Very generous indeed," Padmé mused aloud. "The other news?"

"Apparently there's some rumor floating about. You know that Joral has more or less inherited Jabba's little empire?" She nodded. "Apparently he wants to expand. The problem is that some Twi'lek are thinking about breaking their business ties with the Hutts and come to the New Republic instead."

Laughing out loud Padmé rose from her seat and came over to hug him. "Anakin! That is brilliant! I suppose Karrde will get into contact with that group for us?"

"Of course. Maybe we can use them to scare off Joral's supporters. Then he'll forget about expansion fast."

Patting his chest, Padmé was grinning at him. "That was a very good idea." She sobered again. "Unfortunately I have some bad news for you."

"What bad news?"

"Mon Mothma wants you to keep out of her affairs. In short, my dear, you have been retired."

"What? I thought she wanted my military advice?"

"She says the war ahead is a diplomatic one and that she wants to fight it without your help."

"I see. You will not be able to tell me anything of what is going on any longer?" She nodded mutely. Anakin felt like cursing. "Nice. She is pushing me out of the government and I am left to twiddle my thumbs. I should have known she would get back at me for taking charge during the war. What does she think I'll keep myself busy with?" 

"I don't know. Gardening?" Padmé giggled. "Anakin, you have to understand her point of view."

"I do, believe me, but I don't like it."

"Understandable. I will try to convince her otherwise. She has to see reason too. She might deny it but she needs you."

"There's a great difference between what we want and what we need. Well, I know what I need."

"Do you?"

"Yes. A vacation. So maybe I will let you run the show for a change."

Squinting at him suspiciously, Padmé was silent for quite some time. Finally she asked, very slowly and deliberately. "Anakin Skywalker. What are you really up to?"

TBC

****


	4. Chapter 3 - Broken Bonds

Chapter 3 - Broken Bonds

  
  
  


Bringing the Morning Glory out of hyperspace smoothly, Luke gave his co-pilot a pleased smile. But she was not even looking at him. Nuron's golden eyes were fixed straight ahead on the strange world 

spinning on its axis slowly as it glided on its predestined course through the galaxy. Niaruan. He could sense the powerful presence of three Force-users, Chi'in, Puket and Naas Deron, if he was any judge. The former Sith warriors had found a new home in the Outer Rim, and a new base on Niaruan. Luke was truly looking forward to seeing them again, especially Chi'in. The Noghri reminded him of Master Yoda, and he was already missing his old master. 

Yoda's death had surprised him, and even though over the past days they had spent in hyperspace on their way here he had tried to come to terms with the fact that he was gone, Luke still felt adrift. He could see no true purpose in his life. Perhaps he was a Jedi Knight now, but what was he to do? Was there still a place for him? His father had been vague, when asked about the future, as if it were not his affair any longer. Luke did not understand why Anakin would not teach him, as if he feared that his lessons might endanger his son. 

He shivered, remembering Roj Kell's words the first and last time he had come face to face with the ancient Sith. Kell had told him that he did not know enough of life or the Force yet. Was that true? Did he not know enough yet? Perhaps Chi'in could help him find a way into the future. 

Suddenly a feeling as sharp as a blade tore through his mind, an arrow of pleading and determination that remained for a heart-beat. "Leia?" he whispered. Nuron looked at him sharply.

"What is it?"

"I thought I felt—"

"What?"

"I am not sure. I think she is in danger somehow."

"Can you contact her?"

He tried. "She is too far away. The feeling was not clear either. Maybe it is nothing."

The Zabrak smiled warmly. "You are worried for her, yes?"

Luke nodded slowly. "I guess."

"But Han Solo is with her. He is a competent man and he knows how to protect her, if she did not know herself. Your sister is strong and smart. No one will be able to surprise her."

"You are right." Running a hand over the smooth knobs raised on her forehead, Luke bent forward to kiss her softly. "But I will call Coruscant nevertheless once we are onplanet. I am really looking forward to visiting Thrawn's 'secret base'."

"Chi'in says it is not that interesting."

"Oh my, then he really must be bored. He never ever complained about Korriban," Luke quipped.

"Lord Kell always made sure that everyone went on tiptoe. Life certainly never got boring back then."

Luke gave her a long, incredulous look. Nuron was three years younger than he, but right now she sounded like five years his senior—at least five years. What was wrong? "Don't tell me you miss the old man."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Nuron exclaimed and rubbed a hand over her left cheek unconsciously. "I don't miss him at all!"

"Good." Luke could not suppress a grin. "Mother said she fell in love with him, just a little bit. I am still not sure whether she truly meant it or if it was just to tease Father."

Nuron burst out laughing. "No!"

"Father was furious."

"I can imagine." Nuron nodded toward the planet. "Let's get her down there and meet our friends."

  
  
  


Grand Admiral Thrawn, standing on the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer Executor, squinted into the darkness of space beyond the giant forward viewport. There, spread out among the stars, rested the carcasses of at least fifty battle-ships. He had found three more such graveyards over the past weeks, all situated deep in the Unknown Territories. The Executor had patrolled the entire perimeter a few months ago already, but he had returned on a hunch, sensing that something was wrong. And his aide had shared his worries. 

Raising his left hand he snapped his fingers once, his red eyes glowing faintly. There was a movement at his side, a slight change in the air. 

"Sir?"

"What do you make of this?"

The Falleen who had joined his side cocked his head to one side, as if listening. "I should be able to pick up the residues of what happened here, but... Your men confirmed the date?"

"Three weeks ago. We were just a few clicks away when this happened. You did not sense anything back then either."

"No."

"Any ideas who could be behind this?"

"I fear not."

Thrawn suppressed a sigh. He would very much have preferred Chi'in over Cronn, but the Noghri had declined the offer of a post as his personal aide. The Falleen was competent, no doubt about that, but unfortunately he had no clue about the Unknown Regions or its dangers. There were things out there that no Jedi had ever known about, and only few Sith. Before leaving Coruscant Thrawn had asked Mon Mothma to be assigned as Roj Kell's guardian, confident that their common goals would allow him to keep the ancient Sith in check, but she had refused. Perhaps that had been for the best, after all. 

"Cronn, I want you to establish a secure channel to Coruscant. Get me Roj Kell. Maybe he knows something about this."

"Yes, sir."

Fifteen minutes later he had joined the Falleen in the bridge's conference room. Instead of the ancient Sith though, he was facing Mon Mothma.

"Madam President," he acknowledged her with a tiny bow. "An honor. Although I had expected someone else."

"Cronn has told me already. Unfortunately I have bad news for you. Roj Kell is dead."

"Dead?" Thrawn was slightly taken aback. "That is indeed unfortunate. How?"

"We assume natural causes."

"You assume? I would have thought your scientists would have leapt on the opportunity to examine a three-thousand-year-old corpse. That means you do not have the body."

Her lips twitched in a thin smile. "True."

"Then how do you know he is dead?"

"It is logical. Master Yoda was first to pass away, and a few hours later Lord Kell followed."

"Followed. I see. What did Lord Skywalker have to say?"

"He is a suspicious man, Grand Admiral. He confirmed, though, that Kell's presence has disappeared."

"I for one will not believe he's dead unless I see his body." 

Mon Mothma shook her head slowly. "Perhaps I could assist you with your request instead?"

"With all due respect, that I doubt very strongly. What about Lord Skywalker? Could I speak to him?"

"I have a question of my own, Grand Admiral," she began, ignoring him. "I have heard rumors that there is a possible threat out there. Can you handle it?"

"That is what I wanted to ask Lord Kell, actually. There are maybe one hundred wrecked ships floating around out there."

She bit her lower lip softly. "Grand Admiral, I am President of the New Republic. If there is something out there that might threaten the New Republic I want to be the first to know. Is that clear?"

He gave her a long look. So that was it. Smiling at her he nodded. "Madam President, we may have been allies in the past, but I am neither your watchdog nor your bullyboy, and if I do not want to inform you, I have my reasons too. The reason right now is that the events are complicated enough even for a warrior's mind. You would simply not understand. I had hoped that Lord Kell might give me some clarity about this."

"Not my watchdog? Grand Admiral, need I remind you that you yourself profit from the New Republic?"

"No, I did not forget that. But I also need not remind you that the Chiss will not exchange one overlord for another. We agreed on a fair partnership, an alliance, but I am not the lesser partner of that deal, Mon Mothma."

"I never meant to imply any such thing. But please, for the sake of security, keep me informed on what is happening. If you need help, we will of course grant it, if it does not endanger our own borders."

"Of course. Thank you."

Mon Mothma hesitated, but then her voice took on an almost commanding tone. "Grand Admiral, you know I am grateful for your assistance in the past, and for your continued alliance with us. But I have to respect the wishes of the people. They do not want visible reminders of the past, all they want is to feel safe again."

He gave her a cold smile. "We all want that, Mon Mothma. It has been nice talking to you again, but I have a mystery to investigate. If you will excuse me?"

"Certainly. I did not mean to take up too much of your precious time."

"Good. I am sure you also have a lot to do. Good luck with that." Deactivating the comm, he stared off into the distance pensively. What was going on? 

"Sir? While you were busy I received another message," Cronn told him. "Apparently Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin have arrived at Niaruan."

"Perfect. Set course for the planet then. Maybe they can tell me more."

  
  
  


They had left the ship on Bespin for the sake of secrecy, but Belana had not been certain if it did not draw more attention when her charge simply burst out of thin air. The way she remembered him he would stand out anywhere, by his looks, his behavior, his aura. Yet he was surprisingly adept at keeping himself hidden. Currently he was limping through the depressingly low hallways of Kala'uun, Ryloth's major spaceport. The sound of giant fans propelling fresh air through large ventilation shafts was like a slow and steady heart-beat, and Belana had the eerie feeling that the city itself was something organic, a large creature of some kind. 

"You are learning," Kell whispered softly. 

She did not answer. Having been called back into this realm for the sole purpose of being his guide, she had a hard time concentrating on her task. So much had changed. He was not affected by that, naturally. Luckily, she thought, when another slender Twi'lek female hurried past, her exotic features pretty enough to make any male stare, but Kell ignored her, which made Belana feel strangely pleased. A specter should not be able to feel jealousy, but then, a Jedi Master should not fall in love with a Sith either. When she had been his apprentice over two thousand years ago, she had only begun to learn perceiving the Force from another point of view, a skewed one, as she had found back then. Now it was his turn to learn to combine his unique perception with that of the Jedi. 

"What are we looking for again?" she asked at last.

"A way to change this little corner of the galaxy," he explained with a soft laugh.

Belana would give much to know what he was thinking right then, to get a glimpse at his immediate feelings, but ever since she had freed him back on Coruscant, he had been a blind spot to the Force; or rather, she could not really see him because of the Force. Her vision was limited by her own experiences, her own past, even though she had joined the flow of the Force upon her death, like every being did at the end. Perhaps she had hoped to gain enlightenment on the way, but enlightenment could only be achieved through making an effort at understanding. The wisdom one had in the after-life was the same one had had upon one's death. It could evolve further, true, but there was no sudden omniscience. Unfortunately. 

Yet she could sense the effects his actions had on the overall balance of the Force. The killings in the Outer Rim and the release of that immense reservoir of life force on Yavin 4 had not registered with her; there had been no great disturbances, the way she would have expected. And yet they had affected her too. She felt calmer somehow, more tranquil. It was very strange. 

Rounding a corner, Kell made his way deeper into the port city. Corridors had been hacked into the mountains for miles upon miles, and they housed dwellings and shops and whatnot. It was a fascinating complex, actually. Belana had never been to Ryloth before. Sure, there had been a few Twi'lek Jedi Knights, but she had had other things to worry about than learn about their culture. Right now she wondered what her charge was planning. 

"It is quite easy, really," he told her quietly. "Even though I do not like it, but I believe it will help the overall balance, especially with what is to come. The Twi'lek are adapting to the new circumstances, but the Hutts will prevent that, if they can. They could do so easily, I believe, unless the New Republic claims an interest in the Twi'lek's fate first. Until that happens, we have to buy time."

"What if the Hutts hold the Princess?" It was very satisfying to see him hesitate. Belana hated it that he could read her thoughts so easily while she could not do the same with him. "If they have her, the New Republic will tread very lightly around this topic."

"Actually I spread those rumors to get the New Republic interested in the first place and to gain the Hutts' attention. The Princess does not really matter. If the Hutts have her, they will not use her as hostage. That would be the stupidest thing to do."

"No one ever claimed that the Hutts are more than just sly bastards," Belana reminded him in some amusement. He smiled at her.

"I never claimed anything else either. But the Hutts will not risk the New Republic's wrath over this matter. If they do, they'll lose far more than if they just let it be. Their move will be different. They will try to suppress any contact between the New Republic and the Twi'lek. Secretly, of course."

"So that's what you are here to prevent, right? 

"No. I am here to check out the internal factions. How the Council stands on this, what the people want."

"To what purpose?"

"When things turn nasty, the Twi'lek have to be sure which way to jump. And if I want them to jump right, I have to show them first that left is the worse choice."

"Kell, tell me you aren't selling the Twi'lek out to the Hutts."

"You got it."

"That's not right! You have a responsibility to these people!"

"You prefer the alternative? Would you rather have the entire sector belong to the Hutts, who won't lift a finger when the New Republic gets under attack? Where will your ideals stand then? They have to be isolated! Unity and stability will save the Republic, nothing else, the same it would have saved the Jedi."

"You have already drawn the maps for the future, haven't you?" she asked quietly.

"If you must know, yes."

"And where do we stand now?"

He gave her a long look, his pale eyes earnest, almost sad. "There is a storm coming, Belana, and when it breaks, we had better be sure that everything holds together."

  
  
  


Chi'in waited patiently until the Morning Glory had settled down on its assigned landing pad, then walked over unhurriedly to welcome its passengers. He had discarded the traditional black robes of a Sith warrior for the less formal garb of his native people. It came as a surprise to Nuron, he could see, when she strode down the landing ramp of the ship and stopped dead upon seeing him, but Luke Skywalker merely nodded in apparent approval. The boy was learning. Chi'in wondered briefly what transformation his father might have gone through over the past months. 

They were all returning to the past in some way or other, all those who could remember their roots. That left Nuron at loose ends. She had been just a child when the Sith had found her, and she had known nothing else since then. Perhaps that was the reason for her turning to Luke Skywalker's teachings, even though they were only half-baked. The Noghri supressed a sigh. Difficult times were ahead and they were not prepared yet. He knew that he could not be everywhere at once, that they were too few to begin with. They simply would have to manage some way or other.

"Welcome on Niaruan," he said pleasantly, when Nuron and Luke had finally reached him. He had to crane his neck to look up at them, but he did not mind. 

The young Zabrak nodded. "It is good to see you again, Chi'in. We've been missing you."

"Really? I am honored. Come." He turned around and started walking toward the distant building that would lead them into the larger underground of the fortress. "What news?"

"Master Yoda is dead," Luke explained quietly. Nodding to himself, the Noghri felt strangely relieved. So that was what he had sensed. It had been too far away to place properly, and he had been too busy to confirm any suspicions. So, Yoda was dead. A sudden thought hit him.

"Lord Kell?"

"Vanished. His presence, his body, just like Master Yoda."

"I see. Perhaps Master Yoda should have tried to get more information out of him, rather than swap philosophical arguments."

Luke gave him an incredulous look. "What?"

"Forgive me if I do not share your loss, young Skywalker. One death or another does not matter when so many lives are in danger."

"Father said you had disturbing news from the Unknown Territories."

"That depends. We have found several sites of destruction out there, ship wreckage, hidden bases destroyed. The victims all belonged to groups that we had classified as possible threats. All dangerous in themselves. The Grand Admiral tells me that the Chiss managed to keep them far off usually, so the fact that they advance so boldly now can only mean that they have caught the scent of wounded prey."

"The Emperor's death," Nuron supplied thoughtfully. 

"Yes. This means that they will come at us in greater numbers now. And if we fail to hold them off, the New Republic will have to test its strength against them. In short, we need help."

"But you just said that someone is already helping you."

Chi'in threw Luke a cold glance. "The fact that a greater predator is stalking the lesser ones waiting outside our perimeter is not a very comforting one. And when I say 'lesser' I mean that each one of those groups might overwhelm us by itself."

"So why didn't you place a request with the New Republic? They could send forces out here to increase your fleet," the young Jedi suggested. 

"It is more complicated than that. If the New Republic draws forces away from its critical borders, the remaining Imperial warlords might pounce on the opportunity to reclaim a few worlds."

"So what is your plan?"

"I want to go on an extensive scouting trip, to get a feel for what is waiting for us out there. Puket and Naas Deron know their way around now and I can leave them here to support our defenses, but I cannot go on a foray mission all by myself. I did that once and I almost got myself killed back then."

That admission earned him shocked expressions by the two young warriors. 

"You?" Luke exclaimed, then grimaced wryly. "That really is bad."

"Yes. So, are you game?"

Luke shrugged. "I guess we are. Nuron?"

"I would rather know what enemy I am about to face than stumble into a fight blind-folded."

"Very wise, Nuron. Then we are agreed. Good. Before we leave, though, I want to introduce you to our crew here on Niaruan."

"Chi'in," Luke interrupted quietly. "Could I take a moment to make a call to Coruscant?"

"Of course." Looking up at the young man's concerned features sharply, the Noghri became aware of the other's worry more clearly. "Is something wrong?"

"That's what I hope to find out."

  
  
  


It was a bit unsettling to see so many blue-skinned humanoids walk along the stone corridors of the fortress, but Luke told himself that the Chiss were allies and that they were actually pretty reasonable, if Thrawn was any example. Yet his uneasiness remained. Following Chi'in, he could not help noticing the subtle changes in the short warrior. The Noghri did not wear his black robes any longer, and his lightsaber was not present either. A set of knives had been tucked behind his belt, and a holstered blaster, but nothing made Chi'in appear more than a very deadly warrior. No one would know just by looking at him that he was a fully trained Sith Lord. The question was: why? He could sense that it was upsetting Nuron too, and he could pick up her determination that meant she would talk to her older friend quite severely once they were in private. Perhaps he should caution her about that. There was nothing amiss in Chi'in, and he was not hiding anything. 

"We are here. The comm center," the Noghri announced suddenly. 

They walked into the crowded room in single file, to get past all the desks and chairs. Five pairs of glowing red eyes watched them as they made their way toward what Luke recognized as a Z14 hypercomm, the most powerful model on the current market. For some reason he hesitated to use it though. When the truth hit him, he almost blushed with embarrassment. He did not trust the Chiss. 

Turning his head slightly, he gave Chi'in an apologetic smile that the Noghri requited with a sharp nod of understanding. Then the alien warrior stepped forward and activated the comm, using his own codes. It took a few moments for the connection to be established. Finally though Luke could contact his parents' apartment. Mother answered the call.

"Yes? Chi'in? Should I get Anakin on the line?"

"It's Luke, Mother."

"Oh!" she sounded relieved and surprised at the same time. "Luke! Are you well? Everything is all right?"

"Yes, we are fine. Is Leia with you?"

"She went off with Han, remember?" Mother asked cautiously. Something was very wrong.

"Do you know when they will be back?" There was silence for quite some time. "Mother? Are you still there?" He thought he could pick up a hushed conversation and then Father said:

"Luke, stay where you are and stay sharp. Your sister seems to have run afoul of some unexpected trouble."

"What?"

"Han is up to it. Do not worry yourself, okay?"

"I thought I had felt... What are you going to do?"

"Everything we can. Can you give me Chi'in for a moment?" 

"Of course." Nodding at the Noghri, Luke felt his mind grow numb. What had happened? Was she injured? Had she been kidnapped? And why would his parents not tell him? Chi'in was talking into the comm rapidly in a language Luke had never heard before. He frowned at that. Why were they keeping secrets? Finally the Noghri disconnected the call, looking very pensive. 

"We need to talk. Come."

The trio made the trip to Chi'in's quarters in silence, and Luke for one did not mind at all. He was constantly trying to establish contact with Leia, but she did not respond. Picking up her presence was difficult enough at the distance that separated them, but reaching her turned out to be impossible. 

The set of rooms the Sith occupied were sparsely furnished and did not really look lived-in. Two adjacent rooms though yielded a lively chaos. Out of one of those Puket poked her head in to see what was going on and her lekkus twitched in greeting. 

"Hello! Chi'in did not say you were coming!"

"We didn't announce it," Luke answered apologetically. The Twi'lek ambled into the room gracefully and nodded at Nuron. Luke had a hard time not to stare at her, but apparently Chi'in was not the only one who had forgone his Sithian attire. He also tried to ignore the strong sense of disapproval flaring up from Nuron at his side. Puket's slim body was dressed in a confusing array of leather straps and dark brown fabric that revealed more of her pale skin that Luke had ever seen before. 

"So you are here to help? He's been going on about his scouting trip for weeks, and I get a feeling he knew you were coming. Am I right, boss?" 

"Yes," the Noghri replied amiably. "Please, take a seat, all of you."

"What about Deron?" Nuron asked.

"He is not here at the moment. But he'll be back in a few days," the Twi'lek answered with a smile that told Luke that the former Sith order had indeed yielded another couple. Fascinating, how a war could bring people together, he thought smugly.

"Now that we are all accounted for?" Chi'in sat down on one of the cushions that had been assembled underneath the room's single window. "I have just talked to the Dark Lord and he has clarified a few things for me. Puket, I want you to inform the Grand Admiral personally once he's back." She nodded. "Very well. Lord Skywalker tells me that we cannot count on the New Republic for help and neither should we, because in case of an emergency he will not be available to lead them to our aid."

"What!" Luke exclaimed, aghast. 

"He has been officially retired, which means no more information from him. We will officially only know what Mon Mothma chooses to tell the Grand Admiral. I cannot say I am very happy about that, and neither is Lord Skywalker. This makes our mission all the more important."

"But if we have lost communications with Coruscant—" Puket began, but her former master interrupted her immediately.

"There are always channels open, and we will use Talon Karrde for our ends. I am sure he will be happy to help us out. Now. The other piece of news is that the Minister of State has been kidnapped on Corellia. Yes, Luke, you were right about your sister. Your father's hands are bound though, because of said reasons. He has sent Han Solo on a mission to recover her."

"Han! All on his own?"

"Apparently he has enlisted some help. But that need not concern us now. I want to leave immediately. If you agree?"

"What? No introductions?" Luke asked weakly. Chi'in shook his head.

"That will have to wait until we are back. Puket, you know all you need to know. "

"Yes," she nodded.

"Then we have nothing else to say except farewell." They rose from their seats, all caught up in the sober mood Chi'in's announcement had left them in. "May the Force be with you, Puket."

"And with you, Chi'in." She smiled. "With all of you. Come back safely."

"We will."

Somehow, hearing the Noghri say those words made Luke feel a little bit less on edge. Chi'in was as implacable as a rock, and if he said something would be done, then he would see it through, no matter what. They would come back. Definitely.

  
  
  


"What was that about?" Padmé asked, her tone a mixture of suspicion and resignation.

Jerked out of his own musings by her question, Anakin tried a weak smile. "Information, what else?"

"What language was that? I have never heard the like before."

"Sith. I did not want to risk anyone overhearing that little discussion."

Padmé frowned at him. "Anakin, Mon Mothma would not appreciate that sort of secrecy."

He shrugged. "I have been retired and my daily activities are none of her business anymore. If I want to talk to an old friend, I will."

"What did you talk about?" Walking over to where he was standing next to the comm console, she lay an arm around his waist affectionately. "Anything the Senior Analyst should know?"

"Not yet."

"Anakin, you promised that there would be no more secrets between us."

"I know."

"So?"

"This is not exactly a secret, Padmé. I did not mention Palpatine's courtiers in the last meeting for no reason. There have been fund transfers, assets moved from one place to another, things that seem minor compared with what military threat there is out there. But I think you might want to look into that, too."

"You believe they really will approach the military?"

"At least I thought Chi'in and Thrawn should know about this. They might have more freedom of movement in this case."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes were searching his, then locked on them with a suspicious glare.

"What I mean, my love, is that Grand Admiral Thrawn was never close to any of the courtiers or the military types. They ignored him, and since he was mostly off in the Unknown Territories, that was even understandable."

"And because he is an alien?"

"That too. After that brief comeback during the last months of the war he is conveniently out of the way once more. I doubt any of them will pay any heed of what is coming from his direction."

"Then you want Chi'in to spy for you?"

"Not Chi'in. Karrde. And he will get that information to you, once he has taken care of that business on Ryloth."

"And after he has relayed that information to Thrawn?"

"You got it."

Padmé smiled up at him fondly. "I love the way you never give up, Ani. Be careful though. If Mon Mothma finds out you've been scheming behind her back..."

"She won't learn anything from me," he replied and wrapped her in his arms, engulfing her tiny body almost completely in his embrace.

"I suppose the same goes for me then," she mumbled against his chest.

"Besides, _I_ am not doing anything at all," he added with a small laugh.

"Yes, I noticed. You let the others run around doing your bidding. So, Karrde is on his way to Ryloth?"

"Hm-hm. Piett should be arriving on Chandrila at any time now. How is your debriefing going, by the way?"

"There is a lot to learn about the factions we have now, the people who are in charge. So many died, so many I knew." Padmé sighed wistfully. "It is hard to start from scrap."

"So you will be busy for some time longer, am I right?"

"Don't tell me you get bored without me," she teased him with a smile. Anakin laughed out loud. "You could go explore Coruscant. I hear there are many interesting sights now."

A sudden grin flashed across his face. "Perhaps I will," he mused aloud and started rocking her in his arms tenderly. "Maybe I will truly do that."

Mon Mothma might have deprived him of any legal assets, but there were many possibilities to work around that. And Coruscant's underground might yield just that. Kissing the top of Padmé's head, breathing in the scent of her hair deeply, he was smiling to himself. For a while he had believed he could really kick back and simply enjoy life, but he had always wanted to do that with Padmé, or his children. Now he had an entire planet at his disposal. Oh, yes. Mon Mothma had no idea what a retired Sith Lord might find to amuse himself. 

"Anakin? Do you think she is all right?"

Laying his left cheek against the back of her head, he closed his eyes. "I hope she is." It was unsettling that he was trying to push his worries away, but Anakin had the feeling that worrying too much about his daughter's fate would paralyze him. He could not afford that now. He needed a clear head, and so did Padmé.

"Can you sense her?" 

She sounded so hopeful.... Reaching out to the Force, the Dark Lord let his mind wander along the bond he had formed with Leia over the past months. A smile crept upon his lips as he remembered her at the beginning, when they had met on Debelan, then later her patience during her apprenticeship, the pride in her eyes when he had allowed her to take over the Alliance troops. There was something he could sense, tightly controlled determination and anticipation. Not fear exactly, rather a being aware of danger close by. But she was unhurt. Anakin smiled and hugged Padmé tightly.

"She is unharmed. Don't worry, Han will find her."

  
  
  


Leaning back in his seat, Talon Karrde watched contentedly as Dankin brought the Wilde Karrde into port. Kala'uun was as busy as he remembered, maybe more so, since now that the Empire had withdrawn from this section of space, back to the other side of the Outer Rim, legal and illegal business was flourishing on Ryloth. The smuggler chief knew for a fact that the profits that Galactic Exotics, one of the biggest Twi'lek companies, was getting out of near-by Belsavis were rising continuously. People enjoyed their liberties, expecting a new era to begin and shower them with wealth and freedom. They were buying luxury goods now, confident that times would get better again. Actually, he hoped so too, but knowing the people who were in charge now, he also knew that he would not lose his job too soon. Apart from that, he still had his income from brokering information, so his organization really had nothing to fear, even should things turn out the way everyone hoped.

Take this new assignment that the Dark Lord had arranged for him on his wife's behalf. It was a clear to anyone who listened closely that the Twi'lek were getting restless. They wanted to be in charge of their own trade again, without the Hutts dictating the conditions for their dealings. It was just a whisper so far, but Karrde did not doubt that it would grow into more soon. 

The Wilde Karrde settled down in her landing slots with a soft thud. Smiling at Aves, the smuggler chief rose from his seat. 

"You know the routine, guys. Three guards on the ship, and keep me posted on anything that strikes you as interesting."

"Sure, boss," his crew chorused with wide grins.

"Then I'm off. Aves, you're coming with me." 

They made their way into Kala'uun slowly. It would take time to uncover the right people anyway, and haste would only lead to mistakes. Talon Karrde had a few leads to follow, a few names. But what he found just minutes after having set foot on the planet surprised him nevertheless.

"Talon Karrde!" a deep, pleasant voice called out. "Just the man I need."

Whirling around, the smuggler felt his jaw drop. "You!" he exclaimed, totally shocked. At his side Aves had unholstered his blaster, but Karrde doubted that the newcomer was much impressed by this. Roj Kell was rumored dead, but apparently that had been greatly exaggerated. He wore nondescript clothes in shades of brown, and his long white hair had been bound together at the nape of his neck. 

Karrde frowned. "What are you doing here?" 

"The same you are doing, I assume." Joining them, the Sith dropped his voice to a more normal level. "Uncovering information on a certain rumor."

"Why?"

Roj Kell cocked his head to one side, as if listening to something only he could hear, then smiled at the two men. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere more pleasant and private. There is a very nice restaurant just around the corner."

Karrde frowned suspiciously, but nodded at last. As far as he knew, Kell was never this friendly. What was he up to? He should send Aves back to the ship and get this piece of information back to Coruscant, instead of joining the Sith for dinner, but there was something in the old man's eyes, a slightly mocking gaze that convinced him otherwise. "Do they have Rycrit steak?"

"The best in town."

Twenty minutes later they were seated together in a Twi'lek restaurant, just as promised, and Karrde had ordered a steak with mushrooms, following Aves' lead. "So, why am I here?"

"A common friend sent you, to establish contact with certain renegade elements."

"An educated guess?"

"One could call it that, yes." The Sith gave him a cold smile. 

"And why do you need my help in this?"

"Did I say I need your help? No, Karrde, I am a step ahead of you, and I can cut your time here short. Undoubtedly you have a lot to do now." 

Talon Karrde kept his features blank, but his mind was freezing with uncertainty. How much did Kell really know? 

As if he had read his thoughts, the old man leaned a little bit closer. "I know the name of the man you are looking for, Karrde. You'll be surprised when I tell you, but," here his smile widened a bit more, "I want something in exchange."

Exhaling slowly, Karrde tried not to shift in his seat with discomfort. This was a very awkward situation. If Kell really knew, he'd save him a lot of trouble, but could he trust him? "I need some reassurance, Lord Kell. I know a bit about you, and I would not want to get blown apart by your scheming."

"Ah. I can ease your mind here. My business is not with the New Republic, rather the opposite."

"Even worse," Karrde snorted. "If you think I'll help you if you are aiding the Empire..."

"None of that sort," Kell interrupted him, his pale eyes flashing with sudden anger. "Certainly not the Empire. No, my business is a bit different." 

"Will you tell me?"

"Let me put it like this: I have no interest in seeing the Hutts expand their territory."

Karrde's eyes widened. "You are behind this!"

"Would you say that again, please?" Kell asked drily. "I think someone across the street hasn't heard."

"Why?" the smuggler hissed, feeling upset. "Why this charade?"

"Tell me what your contractor has planned, and I will tell you why."

"Very well." Lowering his voice, Karrde threw a casual glance around. No one seemed to be watching or listening. "He has the same interests here you seem to have. The other thing..." he hesitated. "The other involves other renegade elements. Of the military persuasion. Luckily we have an ally who can watch them for us."

"And you supply that ally with information. I see." When Roj Kell smiled, Karrde felt positively uneasy. "This supposed internal conflict on Ryloth is a grab for power, actually, and a bit complicated. All you need to know is that Joral's chief administrator is responsible for whatever will happen."

Karrde's eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you planning?" 

"I do not want Haman to start a civil war on Ryloth, and I do not want the New Republic to descend on the Hutts with a vengeance. Neither would be a very wise move right now."

"That does not really answer my question."

"Keep the New Republic out of this perimeter, Karrde. Whatever happens here is none of their business. And don't tell anyone of this little meeting." Rising abruptly, a snarl on his face, the Sith hesitated suddenly, his features easing considerably. "I would appreciate it," he added, the words sounding a bit strange. "And it would be in your own interest. Yours, and that of the Republic."

Turning around, Kell left briskly. Talon Karrde slumped against the headrest of his chair. "Well. And so we've been dismissed."

"You don't trust him, boss, do you?" Aves asked quietly.

"No. But you know what? I don't care whether reason tells me I should not trust him. I have a business to run."

"We are leaving?"

"Don't look at me like that, Aves. I won't mess with local politics, especially if Roj Kell has his dirty little fingers in it. We are still doing the other job, and I will tell his lordship about this." Karrde stopped himself. Would he? It was not as if he had given Kell his word, not at all. But he could read the signs of the times. There was trouble ahead. The fact that Vader was scheming again was as sure a sign as the fact that Roj Kell had an interest in Hutt space. What was going on? All he knew for certain was that if this was Haman's doing, he could spend weeks on Ryloth trying to sort things out, weeks he did not have. So he would tell Vader what he knew and be done with it. They still had an appointment in the Outer Rim.

  
  
  


"Do you think he will come to your rescue?" Irek's eyes were piercing, and hauntingly familiar. Where had she seen that intense gaze before? Leia met him glare for glare from where she was seated on a plush, generous sofa underneath a wide, slightly curving viewport that gave her a splendid view of the stars. The ship had entered a stational orbit above a world she recognized immediately. It was a moon really, the Smugglers' Moon, Nar Shadaa. Roganda had left them a few hours ago, and frankly Leia had been surprised that Irek had not accompanied her.

"Who do you mean?" she asked at last.

"Solo. The smuggler."

The Princess smiled slowly. "I suppose he will."

"You suppose?" Crossing his arms in front of his chest Irek sneered down at her. "I thought you love him?"

"Is that any of your business, Irek?"

"I suppose not." The sneer turned into a grin that made him look his real age. He dropped down in his padded chair with boneless grace. Leia frowned at him. His movements seemed so familiar ... "I wonder if my mother loved Father too." She chocked on that. Palpatine? How could anyone ever have felt anything for that monster? Not even one of his concubines! But Irek was not finished yet. "What about your mother, Leia? Does she love your father despite what he has done?"

Leia gave him a sharp glance. "None of your business either, boy," she snapped.

He leaned toward her, his blue eyes piercing into her head mercilessly. "No?"

"Do you think he will kneel to you? Swear to serve you? You are nothing but what your mother tells you to be, Irek Ismaren."

He laughed at that, a rich sound, laced with chiming bells. Leia froze. It sounded so, so...no. She shook her head in confusion. 

"You are ridiculous, Princess," Irek wheezed. 

"And what are we doing here anyway?" she asked, just to change the subject.

"We are doing nothing. Mother is talking to some Yana Dar. I don't know what about, and if I knew I would certainly not tell you."

"Really? What a good boy you are."

"I hate Nar Shadaa," he said suddenly, fiercely.

"You have been here before?"

"No! I mean—no."

Leia shook her head in mild disapproval, a gesture he simply could not miss, then bent to study the holobook she was pretending to read on the datapad Magrody had given to her to pass the time. A novel on the Jedi Master Arca. She had been surprised at the professor's choice at first, then insulted. Now she was intrigued. Just a bit. 

"I wonder what is taking her so long." Pounding a fist on the armrest of his chair, Irek rose impatiently. "I hate waiting!"

"Patience is the virtue of the warrior," Leia quoted an old saying, not bothering to hide a smile. 

"I am no warrior!" Irek screamed. The Princess arched her eyebrows coolly.

"Ah?" she said. "Tell me, Irek, who are you really?"

"Nooooo, no, no, Princess," he said, wagging his finger at her playfully. "I know your kind. But I am not a child any more."

"Obviously not," Leia replied pensively. She recognized the conflict. A loved parent, who demanded much and did not seem to appreciate what you did. Her father had been just the same when she had been his apprentice. Just the same. She did not doubt that Roganda loved her son, or that Irek loved his mother, but he was obviously growing weary of her demands. Her father had known when to let go, had guided her with a gentle hand. Roganda had no time for that. What did she want of him? What was his secret?

"I will leave you to your lecture, Princess," he said with a smile, and what a smile it was, far too knowing, seemingly fake on his young face. 

Leia frowned after him, her mind turning blank for a moment. But she could not solve the puzzle. Then, after another long moment of pure nothing she returned to her reading. Master Arca had headed a Jedi training camp on Arkania, training such Jedi legends as Nomi Sunrider. Leia noticed an internal link on Arkania. Activating it she found herself directed to an extensive databank on the planet. Leia stared. Reading on she was frantically trying to understand what message her mind was trying to give her here. The Arkanians, a peaceful, highly intelligent race, had worked hard on improving the mental capacities of the Yaka, another race that populated the planet. Arkania was not far from Nal Hutta. And Irek had hinted that he had been on Nar Shadaa before, not a pleasant visit. Magrody. What was Magrody's part in this game? He was _the_ expert on Artificial Intelligence, wasn't he? A technical genius. 

Leia compressed her lips in determination. She had to talk to the professor. Fast. And he had given her a hint, by giving her the datapad, right? Time to find out if she was right on that hunch.

TBC


	5. Chapter 4 - Pulling the Strings

  
  


**Chapter 4 - Pulling the Strings**

  
  


Roganda Ismaren followed Erinin slowly, gingerly, taking delicate steps to avoid the mass of jerking bodies packed tightly in the low, humid confines of the Pashey Club. The music was thundering in her ears in a steady, pulsing rhythm that was driving her mad. The club was far too loud, fat too hot, and harbored far too many people for her taste. Her bodyguard was working his way across the floor methodically, and Roganda followed with a hard smile on her lips, her dark eyes sparkling with anger. Suddenly the crowd gave way to a raised dais, where people were sipping drinks at small tables and a long bar. Erinin threw a professional glance across the assembly, then pointed at a door at the far back, where two tough-looking men were standing guard. Roganda nodded. 

"We have an appointment with Yana Dar," Erinin told the guards loudly, to be heard over the din. One of the men shook his head.

"_She_ has an appointment. You don't. Have a drink on the house."

Erinin shook his head. "I am with her."

"No, don't worry." Laying a hand on his shoulder Roganda whispered in his ear. "It will be all right."

He looked down at her over his shoulder, then gave a curt nod. "As you wish." Stepping back he waited until one of the guards had opened the door for Roganda. Undoubtedly he was checking the room beyond as best he could. Not that there was much to see. 

Stepping into the semi-darkness, Roganda felt slightly uneasy. The door closed behind her and thankfully the music dimmed down to a more bearable level. 

"Yana Dar?" she called softly. 

When another door opened, spilling bright light into the room, Roganda jumped in surprise. A woman strode toward her, arms spread in greeting, a broad smile on her face. Her blue eyes were sparkling merrily. 

"You are here!" Embracing her tightly Yana Dar laughed in delight. "I am so happy to finally meet you in person. And where is your charming son?"

"Aboard my ship. He declined your gracious invitation, I am sorry."

"Boys in a temper, I know how it is," Yana replied with a smile. Her dark blonde curls were flying when she shook her head. "I suppose it cannot be helped. But please, take a seat. Sharma!" A slender Twi'lek woman entered gracefully. "A Sunburst for me, Sharma. Roganda, what do you take?"

"A drink?"

"Of course! Sharma can mix absolutely anything for you. How about a Roumay Blend? Your favourite, as far as I recall."

"A splendid idea," Roganda answered with a polite little nod. So she knew about her tastes, did she?

"Sharma, please." The Twi'lek vanished again at her mistress' order. "You had a pleasant voyage, I assume?"

"Yes. No troubles at all."

"I am happy to hear it, madam."

"Please, call me Roganda."

"Roganda." Yana Dar smiled. "Your son is well?"

"Yes."

"No complications? This is impotant. The task you have described is immense, and if he cannot deal with the stress..."

"Rest assured that he can deal with it. Now, as for my request. You have a plan?"

Yana Dar nodded. "Yes. We will start this operation from Yaga Minor."

"Imperial space," Roganda commented. "We will have to be careful there."

"Your friends are gathering at Yaga Minor, Roganda. It is the perfect place for a new beginning."

"My-friends?"

"Roganda, I deal in information. There is little that escapes my notice."

"What do you suggest?"

"I know part of your plan, and, if I may, I would advise a more diffident approach. As I understand you are the mind and your son the tool. Literally."

Roganda stiffened. How much did the woman really know? "What do you mean?"

"I know quite a lot about the Emperor's little project, from its conception to the implementation of its training."

"My son is no _thing_, no tool, Yana Dar."

"No? Your master planned for him to be just that, Roganda. A tool for his purposes, as he viewed everything and everyone. Have you ever heard of the Jen'da prophecies?" Roganda shook her head. "Currently I am conducting efforts in acquiring the sole surviving copy of the prophecies. It was in Palpatine's possession, and that is my only lead. Of course, I have a few suspicions as to their whereabouts, but I am almost certain that the prophecies played an important part in Palpatine's plans. Plans that include your son."

  
  
  
  


Yana Dar studied the former concubine and Emperor's Hand closely. She seemed ready to break down and confess everything, confronted with the information broker's insider knowledge, but not just yet. What would it take to make her trust a stranger? 

Rising from her seat, Yana went over and lay her hands on the other woman's shoulders tenderly. "Roganda, I know what you went through. I know that you were cheering when your master died. You did not want him to abuse your son the way he was abusing you for his ends, am I right?"

"Yes."

"And yet you now use Irek the same way. I understand, in a way. You want him to take his rightful place, a place Palpatine would have denied him. Yet you understand politics too. Your-friends-will not want another regent. They are jealous of each other's power and wealth, and Irek threatens all of that, should he become more than a tool. If you want their support, and you need it, my friend, you will have to convince them that Irek will be no threat, that you can control him."

"He is my son," Roganda tried weakly. 

"I know." Embracing the slender woman, Yana felt a pang of guilt. Trust. It was a high prize to pay, but she needed Roganda's help too. The woman was shrewd, ambitious and a filled with a deep desire for revenge. Underneath all that, though, a mother's heart was beating fiercely. "You have a friend in me, Roganda. Someone you can trust."

"Really?" the other gave a bitter laugh. "You know more about me and my son than anyone else, and you fling that knowledge in my face as if to insult me."

"I assume you came here hoping to gain my support and keep your secrets?"

"Maybe I did."

"Roganda," she murmured, "you need not hide anything from me."

Looking up at her sharply the woman frowned. "How? How can I trust you?"

Suppressing a regretful sigh, Yana told her everything. Well. Almost everything.

  
  
  
  


Leia frowned at the professor, the holobook still clutched in her hands. "What are you telling me? That Irek can influence machines with the Force?"

He nodded. "Yes. I implanted a chip, a transmitter that acts as conduit. I know that history claims that Jedi cannot influence mechanics, but if you translate those Force abilities into a binary code and transmit it..."

"I get the picture." Leia exhaled slowly. So that was it. "Who gave you that task?"

"The Emperor. He was very interested in the project, I might add."

"Artificial intelligence... But how does he do it?"

"The understanding of the machine's internal processes comes first, of course," he explained. "How it works," he added when the Princess gave him a blank look. "I admit that at first I had doubts in the boy's abilities, but his memory is astounding. He has no trouble with handling complex logical patterns at all."

Leia gave him a long look. "Professor, do you know why? Why he wanted Irek to gain those abilities?"

Magrody shook his head. "Roganda Ismaren never told me, and he certainly did not either." The man shuddered slightly in remembrance. "When they came to fetch me, and Palpatine told me that he knew-"

"Knew what?"

"I-" he hesitated, then cast his eyes away. "I suppose you yourself have cursed your heritage sometimes, but I, I did not know. I suspected, perhaps, but when he told me to the face that I could either serve him or be prey for his Jedi hunters, I had no choice really. My wife..."

"You are Force-sensitive," the Princess breathed. "You showed him how to implement his knowledge." She frowned. "They held your family hostage?" Again a nod. There were tears in the old man's eyes. That was just typical, wasn't it? You thought you had found the bad guy and then he turned out to have been a victim of circumstances. 

"I do not know what she wants with him, but I did what they told me. It is fascinating, to tell the truth, but not knowing...."

Leia patted his shoulder gently. "We will find out what she is planning, professor. And we will find your family." If they are still alive, she added quietly to herself. A Force-strong boy who could manipulate mechanical things with his thoughts. With Palpatine's obsession for destructive machines that was almost no surprise to her. But why? That question still lacked an answer. 

  
  
  
  


Anakin Skywalker ducked another wide slash as the knife darted at him again. She had lost her blaster

already, since the Dark Lord had wisely disintegrated it when she had tried to burn a hole through his chest. Her lanky black hair, cut short in a severe military style, was hanging down into her face, nearly obscuring the black patch covering her left eye. The right one-bright blue-was blazing furiously. Finally he managed to grab her wrist and twisted the weapon from her grasp. The woman grunted in pain and disappointment, but she nevertheless made a spirited effort at kicking him in the stomach. 

"Easy," he told her, thanking again the general attitude that prevailed in the Coruscant underground: if it is not your business, stay out of trouble. No one had even stirred when she had attacked him in the middle of the street, and Anakin had been careful not to stay in the open too. If she had recognized him, others might too, and he did not want to have to hold back a mob. 

"Let go!" Twisting madly in his arms, she tried to free herself. "Or I will tell the whole area who you are!"

"I wouldn't advise that." His voice must have had the desired tone, for she suddenly froze, her body tensing all over with dread anticipation. "What is your name?"

"Raisa Tobyn," she answered stiffly.

"Tobyn," Anakin mused aloud. "So, Raisa Tobyn, you seem to have a grudge against me, like a few billion beings more. Why should I care? I could snap your neck easily and I daresay that no one would miss you."

"Oh yeah, you are good at threats, I remember," she replied sarcastically.

"Why did you attack me? That was plain stupid. You must have known you could only lose."

"You killed my brother."

"I killed a lot of brothers. And sisters. And children and what not. Again, why do you think you can raise yourself above their relatives' grief?"

"The government is protecting you. I heard what they said a year ago, that they could control you, that you had atoned in part for the past. I don't think that's just. I think you should be dead."

"You are not alone there either. No one's been trying to kill me so far, though."

"They would have, if given the chance." 

"No one argued with the government. No one stepped forward to condemn me."

"Cowards," she hissed.

"I did not hear you protest the government's decision either," the Dark Lord added quietly.

She turned her head with difficulty, trying to look him in the eye. "You aren't trying to justify yourself?"

"No. Where's the point? There is no excuse." 

Her lips twisted with uncertainty. 

"You brother," Anakin continued. "Was he a rebel?"

"A trooper."

"And you are?"

Raisa shrugged. "What do you care?"

"I am well aware of my deeds, of the guilt. But there is too much to do to die yet." When he could feel that she was reasonably calm, Anakin let her go. She disengaged from him and turned to face him quickly, her one eye darting to the knife lying a bit apart from them mournfully. 

"Are you now? And what would be so important?"

"Everything."

Cocking her head to one side she regarded him pensively. "Are you serious? I did not think you would care."

"If I did not care, things would have turned out much differently."

"I guess you are right, in a sense." Raisa conceded slowly and folded her arms in front of her chest. "But I still think you got off too lightly."

"Lightly? I don't think so." Anakin gave her a mirthless grin. "Perhaps I can enlighten you though. If you are prepared to listen?"

When she nodded, he knew that he had won. She might not be much, but she was a beginning. Mon Mothma had deprived him of his old powerbase, or at least most of it, with only Jix and Mara independent enough to perform the tasks that needed doing without raising a fuss with Intelligence. To circumvent the restrictions placed on him, he had to build up another network. Nothing elaborate, just fitting for his purposes. Someone to get messages out for him, to run errands. The most difficult thing would be to gain the loyalty of new assets, and he suspected that Raisa would be a tough one to convince. Still, he had little doubt that he would manage in the end, and once he had her, she would be his tool to recruit others. Once that was done he would be able to evade the watching eyes of the New Republic, use the fringe for his ends. It was risky business, as Padmé had told him severely, but necessary. One day, maybe, Mon Mothma would even thank him for it. Until then, though, he had a lot of work ahead of him.

  
  
  
  


"I checked the ports. They found an abandoned ship, and that is all I can give you," Lando sighed. "Now, why don't you tell me exactly what this is about?"

"You have Abla for me?" Han asked anxiously. They had waited for three days, but no one had seen anyone who looked like Roj Kell, and all they had was an abandoned ship at one of the hangars. Great. By now Han was willing to admit that he had let himself be scared by the tales he had heard of the old man. The Corellian had been reluctant to move in any direction if there was a chance that Kell might catch on to him, but it was too urgent. Leia was in danger, and he had to find her, no matter what.

"Yes. He replied to my messages after all. You owe me an answer, buddy."

Looking into his friend's earnest face Han resigned. "All right. I suppose you've heard rumors already, but were just too tactful to ask me straight away. Leia has been kidnapped on Corellia."

"So it is true," Lando breathed. "Forgive me, my friend, but I had thought... It does not matter anymore."

"What? What did you think?" Han almost shouted.

"That this was another one of your Dark Lord's schemes, to draw out the remains of the Imperial court, the warlords. It was not?"

"No." Han was shocked by the very assumption. Surely Anakin would never use his daughter in that manner? And besides, he had been surprised by her disappearance himself, hadn't he? "He did not know," he managed at last. 

"I see. All right. I will help you find your girl again, Han. What are friends for, after all?"

"Thanks, buddy."

Lando gave him one of his most winning smiles. "And now that things are clear between us, let us call Mister Othana. You want him to slice into Coronet's portfiles?"

"Yes. Maybe we can get a lead on the kidnappers that way."

"Let's do this."

.

  
  
  
  


"Yana!" 

Looking up from the screen of her datapad she directed a warm smile at Abla Othana. His brown eyes were sparkling beautifully. "What is it, love?"

"Solo has established contact."

"The job? What does he want?"

"Slice into Coronet's mainframe."

"As expected. I want you to make sure he finds out who is behind the Princess' kidnapping."

"You are playing with fire if you betray your allies, Yana. This might point him your way too."

She slapped the desk hard, suddenly furious. "How dare you! I am no fool!"

"Easy, girl." Walking over, he dropped down on the sofa next to her and lay an arm around her shoulders. Yana leaned into his embrace tiredly. 

"I have no choice" she said quietly. "I need them, Abla. Roganda has Magrody, she told me, and I cannot risk her knowing what I need him for. Besides, I think once we reach Yaga Minor, she'll have no uses for him any longer, and if that is the case he will die. I cannot let that happen, we need him. We will save his life in the process, see? And Solo gets his Princess back."

"What are you planning for her?"

"Roganda wants her to join her cause, but she cannot succeed."  


"And you will?" he asked, sounding doubtful.

"Abla, all I want is knowledge. I don't need more power."

"The prophecies. What is so important about them?"

"I do not know yet, but we need them. And I know just the people to get them for me." Snuggling up to him contentedly she smiled. "You, my dear, will ask Solo to come here to complete the deal. Tell him what he needs to know."

"And then?"

"Then he'll perform a little job for us on Yaga Minor."

His face lit up when realization dawned. "Magrody! You want him to kidnap Magrody!"

"Clever boy," Yana teased him and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "That's what I like in you. You're not your typical slicer, with a head cramped from top to bottom with binary codes."

"Right now there's actually just one thing I'm thinking of," he replied with a chuckle. 

"Good. I have a feeling that's just the same I have in mind myself."

  
  
  
  


"I told you this vacation would be just great," Wrenga Jixton announced with a pleased grin as he leaned back in his seat. They had found a place in one of Nar Shadaa's seedier bars, and he felt very good indeed. 

"No, Jix, you said, and I quote: we can stay on Nar Shadaa until he has forgotten about that little incident on Vjun," Mara corrected him drily. 

The Corellian grimaced slightly. "Okay, maybe I said that, but it is still a great vacation."

"Always the optimist."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault that the systems crashed!"

"Yeah? He did not buy your excuse though."

"It _could_ have been a virus though." 

"Or else someone sliced into the system."

"Page's people went through everything. They couldn't find any leak."

"There are slicers who don't leave traces. Incidentally one is currently here, on Nar Shadaa."

Jix sat up. "So that's why you agreed to come to Nar Shadaa! I should have known it wasn't just the climate when you said you didn't want to go to Malastare!"

"You know me, darling," Mara answered innocently, but her green eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"So, who is this slicer?"

"Abla Othana. He works for Yana Dar."

"Yana Dar?"

"Heads one of the biggest non-Huttese companies in this sector. She could rival Karrde's group, if she put her mind to it. The Pashey Club is hers."

Jix got up and held out his hand for her. "You want to go pay the lady a visit?"

"Well, it would be nice to have a bit of real fun for a change on this wonderful vacation you keep on praising so highly," she replied sarcastically, her eyebrows raised in an open challenge. 

Jix grimaced slightly. So it hadn't been all that exciting, but better than stay on Coruscant, or Vjun. Vader had just wanted them to sort through his files in Bast Castle, and there were not many tasks as boring, and then a little accident had almost destroyed the computer system. Suffice to say that his lordship had not been best pleased. Jix and Mara had excused themselves a bit hurriedly, and actually the Corellian agent did not feel guilty at all about it. Vader had been nagging at them for weeks, and Jix had had enough of the Sith's constant demands. They really had needed some time off, some time alone together, some fun. Not a boring vacation. Time to change that. Performing a mocking bow he gave Mara a charming grin.

"Anything you desire, baby."

They made their way up leisurely, taking their time with enjoying the views of Nar Shadda, until they had reached the more expensive levels of the vertical city. More expensive, and more dangerous. Mara was walking the hallways unconcernedly, and she looked stunning, dressed in a black body-suit, with her mane of red hair hanging loose. Jix gave her a fond smile that she requited with a frown. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just enjoy looking at you."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Charming." Then she pointed ahead. "Looks like we are here."

There was a long line queuing up in front of the Pashey Club, but Jix just pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests rising in his wake. Mara followed him quickly. The bouncer standing in front of the entrance threw one look at Jix and then waved him aside. Although a head shorter, the Corellian placed himself in front of the man and smiled. 

"Excuse me, buddy, me and my girl-friend, we want to have a bit of fun in there. Heard that this is the best place to go. Nice logo, by the way."

"Your kind is not welcome here."

"Really?" Jix asked sweetly, but before he could punch the man's lights out another joined them. Tall and dressed in a black leather coat and black pants, he eyed Jix out of dark brown eyes and nodded. 

"It is all right, Silen. Boss wants to see them."

"Who're you?" the Corellian asked suspiciously.

"My name is Abla Othana, Mister Jixton. Miss Jade. Please, if you would care to follow me."

Mara and Jix shared a glance, then Mara shrugged. Walking past the bouncer, they stepped into the club. The Corellian eyed the dimly lit hallway and snorted softly with disdain. "Droll," he muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Just like your little watchdog."

"Do you think I too believe that the clothes make the man, Mister Jixton?" Othana asked pleasantly.

"I hope not, 'cause that would make you an asshole," the Corellian answered quite sincerely and Mara almost choked on silent laughter at the expression appearing on the slicer's face.

"Charming. I think Yana will enjoy your company."

Yana Dar, as it turned out, was a busy lady. She made them wait for an entire hour, during which Othana tried entertaining them, but all the subtle tries to find out whether it had been him behind that incident on Vjun only turned up polite denials. While Jix did all the work, Mara was calmly sipping her drink-on the house-and kept herself busy with watching the other patrons. Jix was a little bit angry at her for that, but not for very long. No sense in wasting time on anger. 

Finally they were admitted into Dar's office. It was not what he had expected. A plush sofa and cushions were spread across the red-carpeted floor, and two sleek desks completed the furnishing apart from a stylish lamp the shape of a Besom-fruit. Yana Dar herself was seated on the sofa, a smile on her face and a multi-colored drink in her left hand. Jix bet it was nothing too hard.

"Wrenga Jixton and Mara Jade," she began pleasantly. "I had heard you were on planet. A nice surprise. Please, take a seat. How can I help you?" 

To Jix' mild surprise Mara took the lead. Folding her arms in front of her, she assumed an easy stance that would allow her to attack at any time, should it become necessary. "You have been expecting us?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, actually."

"Why?"

"Actually, I assumed you had heard certain rumors and would require information." Yana Dar frowned. "Your reasons are different?"

"Actually we wanted to confirm whether it was your slicer who hacked into Bast Castle. But what rumor are you referring to?"

"You do not know yet? The Minister of State has been kidnapped."

"Leia!" Jix exclaimed, startled. "We were not aware of that rumor," he added glumly, after Mara shot him an icy glare.

"I see. Well, it is no rumor anymore. There has been an official announcement today, and Mon Mothma did not sound all too happy. She's sworn to bring the kidnappers to justice and not yield to their demands."

"Demands? What do they want?" Mara asked sharply.

Yana Dar shrugged. "I know nothing of demands. But, my friends, I know something else. Something you might find useful."

"What would that be?" Narrowing his eyes a fraction, Jix tensed all over. This did not bode well.

"I know where she is."

  
  
  
  


Before the Corellian could go for his blaster Mara lay a hand on his arm soothingly. She did not let Yana Dar out her sight at all though. "I assume you want to offer a deal?"

"Exactly. To ease your minds, I do not have the Princess, but I know who does. They are not to be trifled with, but from what I hear, you two can take on them with some luck. I will give you all the information I have on the matter, but in exchange you must do something for me."

"What keeps us from obtaining that information nevertheless?" Jix growled.

"This is my turf, Jixton. If you try anything cute, you are dead. Both of you. I don't take chances, mister."

Mara squeezed his arm warningly and Jix subsided. Holstering his weapon again, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited. Again Mara spoke: "I would hear your proposal, Yana Dar. What do you want us to do?"

The other woman's face lit up with delight as she activated the holo console installed into the desk next to her. A forbidding planet appeared on the screen. "I knew you'd be reasonable after all. Do you know this world, Mara Jade?"

The former Emperor's Hand nodded. "Byss. I know where it is."

"Have you ever been there in person?"

"No."

"A shame. My information on the place is incomplete, but I will give you what little I have. There is something in the Emperor's treasury that I want very much. A holocron."

"What?" Jix exclaimed. "Why would you want a-" 

"Jix, let me do the talking, all right?" Mara told him sweetly. "But his question is justified. Why do you want that holocron."

"A collector's item, no more, perhaps of some historical value."

"Really? The holocrons in the late Emperor's collection rarely were of any historical value, excepting the history and teachings of the Jedi."

Yana Dar spread her hands in a soothing gesture. "Rest assured it is nothing like that. Now, this is the deal: the holocron for the whereabouts of the Princess. And you can walk out of here alive."

Mara gave Jix a long, calculating look. "It is a deal," she said at last.

"Good!" Bounding to her feet, Yana Dar extended her hand to seal their bargain and Mara took it gingerly. "I am pleased that we could come to an agreement. I assume you have transport? Abla will provide you with the information you need. I must thank you again, Mara, Mister Jixton. And I wish you good luck."

Mara was very pensive when they walked back to the small apartment they had rented here. She did not believe a word Yana Dar had told them, except for one thing: she knew where the Princess was. At her side Jix was equally silent, undoubtedly as lost in thought as she was. She could pick up his uneasiness, and a hint of anger too. Was he really mad at her because she had entered that deal? She did not understand why he would be, their vacation had not been so glorious after all.

"Jix, don't sulk. This will be more fun than hanging around Nar Shadaa. Besides, you were the one who didn't want a boring life, as far as I recall."

"Give an old man a break," he mumbled. "What do you make of this?"

"The holocron?" Mara snorted softly. "She was lying."

"I agree. But what would she want with just one Jedi holocron?"

Mara gave him a long look. "She's Force-sensitive. Not much potential, but well-honed abilities, as far as I could tell. We should tell his lordship."

He gave her a surprised look. "A Force-user? Her? She seemed to be such a nice girl-"

"Jix!"

He sighed. "I guess we can risk making contact now that we're going off to Byss anyway. All right. Let's call him."

  
  
  
  


The comm blared at full volume, waking Anakin and Padmé from deep slumber. It had been a long day, and both were exhausted, yet he rose with a sigh, told Padmé to stay put, and ambled over to the comm console in the living-room. 

"It is very early in the morning. Make it quick, all right?"

"Hey, Uncle Dee," a familiar voice said in an annoyingly cheerful tone.

"Jix. I should not be surprised, I guess. Do you know what time it is here?"

"No, and frankly I don't care. Listen, we have big news. We have a lead on the Princess."

"What?" Suddenly wide-awake he felt relief sweep through his body in hot waves. "You have found her?"

"Not exactly. We have found someone who claims to know where she is being held, knows who is behind this. We made a deal. All we have to do is do a little house-breaking on Byss. Then she'll give us the info."

"Who is your contact?"

"Yana Dar."

"Her? What does she want from Byss?"

"A holocron, apparently."

"Highly intriguing. Yana Dar, you say? Hm. All right. The mission is granted. But be very careful. Byss is not a holiday resort. Report once you have what she wants."

"Sure thing, boss. See you around."

Deactivating the comm Anakin sat down heavily on the couch, his eyes fixed into the distance. 

"Anakin?" Padmé called sleepily. "What is it?"

"That was Jix. He might uncover something about Leia." He could hear her move on the bed. Probably she had sat up. 

"Are they sure about this?"

"Jix sounded pretty confident, but then, he always does. On the other hand we needn't worry too much should their lead turn up dry. Han is on her trail too, after all."

"One of them will get to her," she said, but with little conviction.

"Yes. I hope so."

There was silence from the bed-room. Then: "Anakin, did Karrde check back in?"

"He is supposed to send his reports to Chi'in first, remember?"

"What if Chi'in is off somewhere?"

"Deron or Puket can get the news back to me too, no problem."

Padmé heaved a loud sigh. "I hate waiting," she announced. 

Rising from his seat, Anakin went back into the bed-room. "I am worried too, my love. But we will get them, one way or the other, you'll see."

  
  
  
  


Preceding her into the room, Erinin made an okay-sign and Roganda went in after him. She was still a bit shocked over what Yana Dar had revealed to her, but it also gave her hope. Irek was waiting for her, sprawled on the sofa, watching a holoshow. When she entered he barely raised his head to acknowledge her.

"Did you have fun?" he grumbled, returning his gaze to the screen.

"Fun?" Propping her hands on her hips Roganda gave her son a withering glare that he failed to notice. She shook her head and swept around the sofa to sit down beside him. "Irek, I am doing this for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Sure. Thanks."

Roganda's lips twisted in disdain. "Erinin, would you please leave us?" The bodyguard nodded sharply and went, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, Irek sat up, obviously expecting a lecture on obedience. There had been enough in the past, Roganda thought guiltily. But why did he have to be so head-strong? "How are your exercises proceeding?" she asked quietly.

"Magrody is satisfied," he answered vaguely, not quite meeting her eye. "But I suppose we won't know for certain until we have reached Yaga Minor."

So he had thought about the plan. Good. "It requires a lot of concentration. I want you to focus your exercises on that."

"Okay."

"Did you talk to the Princess?"

"No, why should I?"

She eyed him doubtfully. "Don't lie to me, Irek."

"Mother," he said calmly, "I am no child any longer."

Hugging him on impulse, she smiled and buried her head against his shoulder affectionately. "I know, Irek, I know," she told him. "I promise I will treat you like an adult when you show me that you can take responsibility and take your duty seriously."

"Duty!" he roared and rose abruptly, freeing himself of her embrace. "That's all you ever talk about! What about me? What about my wants and wishes? I always do what you tell me, Mother! Always! But what for? What?"

Composing herself in the face of his accusations was difficult, but Roganda managed. She drew herself up stiffly, meeting his blue eyes without effort. "You are someone very special, Irek. Being special brings a lot of responsibility with it, and you cannot escape your destiny by running from that. You are what you are, and nothing can change that. If you accept your fate, things will become a lot easier for you."

"And for you, am I right?" he hissed. "No temper tantrums, no sulking, just your little boy who does everything you tell him to without question. I have had enough, Mother."

"Enough of what?" a cheerful voice asked from the doorway. Roganda jumped in surprise, while Irek whirled around, a snarl marring his young features, and struck at the newcomer through the Force. Yana Dar stumbled back into the corridor and the door slammed shut in front of her. Staring at her son in horror Roganda could only shake her head.

"Irek!" she breathed at last. "You cannot loose your temper like that!"

"Really? I just did, Mother. And it was quite easy."

Scrambling to her feet, Roganda gritted her teeth as she darted past him to check on her ally. The information broker was very pale when the door opened again, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. But when her gaze fell on Irek, anger flashed across her features quick as lightning. 

"Just like your father," she snapped as she strode into the room, shaking the previous attack off with a shrug. "Resort to threats when arguments fail." Mustering Irek from top to bottom she sniffed in disdain. "I thought you would be better than that."

Roganda could see the effects Yana Dar's words had on her son most clearly. He frowned at the woman at first, then a faint smile appeared on his lips to be replaced by sternness. Roganda hid a small smile carefully. Perhaps Yana shared more with her own father than she wanted to realize.

"I am not a despot," Irek told Yana haughtily.

"Really? Then you will keep in mind that only despots treat their surroundings with disrespect."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Yana Dar, little brother," she answered with a bright smile. 

Irek made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "Brother?"

"Half-brother, really," the information broker replied and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I guess by your looks you tend more to your mother's side of the family." She grinned. "Lucky boy. Now," turning toward Roganda she gave her a questioning glance. "Before we leave, do you want to introduce me to the Princess?"

  
  
  
  


Leia followed Roganda's one-eyed bodyguard quietly. She could sense the growing excitement among the crew and guessed that it meant they were leaving again. When Magrody had revealed the truth to her, she had discarded all thoughts of escape. This was too important to leave unobserved. No doubt that staying was the more dangerous choice, but Leia had learned long ago that fear was the cause for mental paralysis, and that she could not afford right now. Before she could inform the New Republic, she had to find out what Roganda was planning for her son. Although the Princess could hazard an educated guess, she could feel that there was more behind this than just a mother's ambitions for her child.

"In here," Erinin ordered quietly. She went into the room first, with him following at her heels, and was not surprised to find Roganda and Irek waiting for her together. But there was someone else with them this time. A slender woman with dark blonde curls and clear blue eyes, who was smiling when the Princess entered.

"Your highness," Roganda began pleasantly. "May I introduce to you a dear friend, Yana Dar." For some reason Irek started grinning.

"It is a pleasure," Yana added. "I have heard such a lot about you, Princess. Only good things, of course."

"Of course," Leia echoed. "I have to admit that I have never heard of you until now."

"No wonder. I do not advertise myself or my organization. And I believe that you have no interest in sullying your reputation by siding with the likes of me."

Leia smiled coldly. "If it suits my purposes, I might. Now that the introductions are over, maybe you would care to enlighten me about the goal of this undertaking?"

"All you need to know for now," Roganda explained, "is that we are leaving for Yaga Minor as we speak, to meet a few old friends."

"Friends?" 

"Yes."

"Do they know about your son's special abilities?"

"What special abilities?"

"Come on, you did not truly believe that you could keep anything from me, did you?"

Roganda looked faintly surprised, but Yana Dar smiled slowly. "She talked to Magrody. Foolish of you to leave him aboard with her, my friend. But I do not think this is a great loss, she would have learned sooner or later, am I right?"

"Of course," Roganda admitted. "On Yaga Minor at the latest."

"So you might as well tell me now what you are planning," Leia injected quickly. 

"Not yet," Roganda replied.

"Why not?" her son snapped. "She thinks she's so clever, but she does not know everything."

"Irek," Yana Dar began quietly, "do not confuse ignorance with stupidity. The Princess is very clever and if you want this plan to work, you had best not give her anything to be clever about."

The youth gave Leia an appraising look, then nodded. "You are right," he said at last, but there was a hint of annoyance, or maybe resentment, in his tone that Leia could not quite understand. 

Then, though, she saw the hidden smile on Roganda's lips and her mind gushed with ice water. What if Irek himself did not know? Had he just tried to goad his mother into an admission? That would fit in well with the tension she had felt between mother and son previously. Roganda apparently was keeping some things back from Irek too. Leia wanted to shout with joy. This was a weakness to exploit. But the question was who to work on, Roganda or the boy. Of course, Roganda had had a life-time of experience with scheming at Palpatine's court. Perhaps it would be better to take on her son after all.

  
  
  
  


Marten Anderland ambled into the sprawling maze of back-offices of the Pashey Club absent-mindedly. He had been working on the Seeker all day long, and he needed a break. Apart from that the last job Yana had made him do was nagging at his conscience. What was she trying to accomplish by that? Better not to question her too closely. He made his way to the small snack bar, hoping that a nice, hot Jeha tea would soothe his nerves. But when he passed Abla's office, his ears idly picked up a snatch of conversation that made him stop dead in his tracks. Hugging the wall next to the doorway, he tried to listen.

"...on her way, Grand Admiral," Abla was saying. "She won't give you any trouble, I suspect." There was a long silence, and Marten guessed that whoever Abla was talking to had a lengthy response to that assumption.

"No," Abla said at last. "I would not advise that, sir. She is the one with the connections. I get my information from her, after all. The data I gave you from Bast Castle was satisfactory? Glad to hear it."

Again a pause. Marten leaned a little bit closer. 

Suddenly the door slid open and he found himself being dragged into the room beyond. "So," Abla Othana hissed. "Marten Anderland. You should have stayed with your program, sunshine."

"Abla, what-"

"Sorry, buddy, no witnesses, no traces. Nar Shadaa is a dangerous city," the slicer continued right over him, and to Marten's horror he was waving a blaster around, the weapon's muzzle outfitted with 

a silencer.

"No," he whispered, his body drained of all energy, as if his fear had sucked all of his willpower out of his mind. "No."

"Don't worry. This will not hurt one bit."

  
  
  
  


The Executor dropped out of hyperspace a few clicks away from Niaruan, her escort of six Star Destroyers flanking the giant ship in perfect unison. Seated in his command chair, Grand Admiral Thrawn nodded toward the comm officer.

"Establish contact with the base. I want to know what is going on. Cronn, tell Captain Palleon to relieve the base's patrol ships."

"Yes, sir," both men chorused and went about their tasks. 

So, Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin, just the pair he needed, or rather, that Chi'in needed. The Noghri had been planning on a scouting trip for weeks now, but he had been reluctant to actually leave. But he had told Thrawn that he was waiting for reinforcements, that he had contacted the Dark Lord about the strange happenings in the Unknown Territories. Good. While Thrawn had not really expected Vader to show up himself, he had believed it highly plausible that he would send his son in his place. In some ways the younger Skywalker was the better choice, calmer, more cautious, and above all unbiased. 

"Sir? I have the Admiral on the line for you," the comm officer told him quietly.

"Good. Put him through. Admiral Parck, I would hear your report now," he continued, when he accepted the call.

"Nothing new on the home front, sir," the familiar voice of his second-in-command answered drily. 

"What news from the Republic?"

"Skywalker brought a few datacards, confidential. They are waiting here for you."

"And Skywalker himself?"

"Chi'in took him and Sarin out a few days ago. I assume they will be a while. Chi'in did not make any promises as to when they will be back."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Puket has news for you, also confidential. She was pretty excited about it. Important, too, I assume."

"Probably. Any report from Naas Deron?"

"Nothing."

"Good. We will be with you shortly. Meet me in my office."

"Yes, sir."

Disconnecting the call, the Grand Admiral watched as the six Star Destroyers veered away to replace the ships patrolling the close perimeter. Palleon's Chimaera was leading them, and Thrawn knew that the Captain would not need further instructions. He would put part of his crews on leave to go dirt-side, should they want it, leaving them to relax a bit from weeks of maneuvers and patrol duty in Wild Space. 

Thrawn did not react when Cronn joined him again. 

"I have felt a disturbance," the Falleen said quietly, "very faint, but unmistakably Dark Side."

"There is no other Sith out there I should know about, is there?" the Grand Admiral asked just as quietly.

"No."

"Good. We will join Admiral Parck and get an update. Then we will decide whether to investigate this further."

"Yes, sir."

"Please see to it that my shuttle is prepared." 

"At once."

A few hours later the shuttle landed on one of the base's main landing pads. Cronn was the second to exit over the landing ramp, wearing his confidence like a shield. Officially the Falleen was the Grand Admiral's aide, but it was one of his duties to act as bodyguard too. So far he had not had to act in that position, luckily, but Thrawn was certain that sooner or later it would happen. He trusted Cronn's abilities, both as his aide and as a warrior and so he stepped onto the permacrete unconcernedly, looking forward to Parck's report. 

As it was, though, his patience was not shared by others. Puket ran up to him, her lekkus twitching with excitement. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tiny sigh. The young Twi'lek could use a bit of the calm Cronn and Chi'in had.

"Yes?" he asked when she came to a stop in front of him.

"News, sir. From Talon Karrde. Please, I think it is very urgent. If you could-"

He held up a hand to quiet her. "Calm down, please. Why do you think it is urgent?"

"Well, it says 'confidential', sir."

"Really. What if I tell you that Admiral Parck has an entire stack of datacards waiting for me, also marked confidential?"

She regarded him with a slightly bewildered expression. Finally she answered with a slight frown: "Because my information came in only yesterday and Admiral Parck has had his datacards for a few days? My information could change what news he has."

"Very good." The Grand Admiral smiled down at her. "Then we will see to your piece of news first."

It was not good news, that was for certain. Frowning at the message, Thrawn was alternating between wanting to curse and to sigh. So, Roj Kell was alive, and he was up to something with the Hutts. And Karrde was coming here, to seal some deal with him. 

"What orders do you have in regards to this?" he asked Puket quietly.

"I am to relay it to Lord Vader-I mean, Lord Skywalker. Encrypted."

"Then do that immediately. How can I reach Chi'in?"

"Not at all. He will contact you if it is urgent."

"Will he now," the Grand Admiral growled. It was infuriating that the Noghri refused to submit to his command. Chi'in did whatever he wanted, without bothering to keep Thrawn posted. There would have to be some serious words this time, definitely. "Very well. You have your orders, Puket. I am going to see if Admiral Parck has anything more pleasant to report."

  
  
  
  


Lying on her bunk, Leia was wracking her brain futilely. So, Irek could control mechanics, which meant he might even be able to control a ship. That might become dangerous, but she doubted that he could control more than one ship, or maybe two; but she was almost certain that the New Republic fleet could handle anything like that. What would be far more dangerous was some unexplained accident in bio labs or something similar. 

What was the plan? Why Yaga Minor? What friends were waiting there? Former members of the court? What could they have that Roganda wanted? They did not rule what was left of the Empire, the warlords did, as far as she knew. Certainly credits played a big role here; still, that did not answer the why. Not knowing was almost driving her insane. 

Her head came up when she picked up a presence approaching her cabin. Irek. A smile appeared on her lips as she got up. Just perfect. He strode into the cabin like a king, all pride and haughtiness, and his lanky form moved with a grace that Leia again found familiar. She cocked her head to one side, directing a questioning glance at him.

"How may I help you?"

Icy blue eyes regarded her with indifference. "Not me, Princess. My mother wants something of you. She will not tell me though."

"I am so sorry for you," she replied with a small, knowing smile. "But I fear I cannot enlighten you."

"Actually I think differently."

"What do you mean?"

Irek walked over to her with three long steps. "It is quite easy, Princess. You have something my mother wants, and I intend to deny her that."

"Wha-!" The last thing she saw were his eyes, and as her mind plunged toward dark oblivion, Leia had a very disturbing vision. She saw Irek, his black hair flowing down over his shoulders, his slender form dressed in black Sith robes. When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled slowly, a predatory smile that, as she realized with horror, she had indeed seen before. _No! Not him! _And then she was gone.

  
  
  
  


"Did you feel that?" Belana raised her head from where it had rested quite comfortably on Kell's shoulder, her eyes trying to penetrate the gloom surrounding them. She could sense that he was awake too, and when she looked down on his face she saw that his eyes were open.

"Yes," he answered at last. "A disturbance in the Force."

"What does it mean?"

"I told you there was a storm coming," he said in a quiet voice, like cool silver light on a the flat surface of a tranquil sea. 

"You mean..."

"Yes. It has begun."

  
  
  
  


TBC

****

Chapter 2 - The Making of Plans

Waking up from deep slumber, Leia tried to work some moisture back into her mouth. She scanned her surroundings thoroughly, even though there was not much to see. A nondescript room with a narrow bunk, a small window that showed her starlines streaming by, a fresher stall and a door. Shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness that still remained, Leia sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk to rise. Her stomach rumbled at her demandingly. She got to her feet gingerly, feeling as if she were balancing on a thin rail above a black abyss. It felt strange, but she put it down to the after-effects of the stun bolt, and maybe some mild drug. Nothing she could not handle. 

Her eyes sought the bunk again longingly, but she refused to give in to weakness. Instead she walked over to the window and leaned her head against it. Reaching out to the stars, the way her father had shown her, she made herself feel them, feel the invisible field connecting them. He had claimed that it was possible to touch the Force anywhere, if one only knew how to listen properly, and right now Leia was smiling as she let it fill her consciousness, washing away her weariness. Would she be able to call out to her friends and family? Would Luke be able to hear her? Her father? She tried, forming words in her mind. _Luke! Father!_ There was no reply. Perhaps they were too far away. 

Her mind open to the Force and her surroundings she picked up the presence approaching easily. He was nervous in an absent-minded sort of way, and his thoughts seemed to be drifting in several directions at once. Turning toward the door Leia composed herself, wondering if she looked as regal and calm as she felt. She wore her confidence like a shield, but when the door opened she was almost disappointed to see that it was only Nasdra Magrody. The elderly man looked at her in confusion, then gave her a small, friendly smile. 

"They said I was to bring you to their quarters," he began in a soft, slurred voice. Leia winced. He was obviously drugged. 

"Lead the way," she answered coolly and nodded at him. He turned around and started walking down the hallway. Following him, Leia studied the corridor closely. She could try to get to an escape pod or something, of course, but while they were in hyperspace, any attempt to flee would be useless anyway. Suppressing a sigh, the princess tried her best to scour her memory for any ship type with a set-up like this one had. None came to mind during their short trip.

"We are here," Magrody announced suddenly, stopping in front of a cabin door that opened immediately. Leia recognized the woman who sat on her chair like a queen, a slender boy at her side. The black hair and fair skin made him her son. His blue eyes though were a stark contrast to her almost black gaze, and they were far colder than hers. Stepping into the cabin, Leia smiled in imitation of her father. He always managed to upset people that way. 

"Thank you, professor," the woman said sweetly. "That will be all." She waited until Magrody had disappeared again, closing the door behind him. "Princess, it is an honor to have you with us."

"Maybe you will tell me now who you are and what you want from me?" Leia asked calmly, refusing to acknowledge fear or anxiety. 

"Of course. You do not recognize me, do you?"

"Should I know you?"

"Perhaps. We have not been formally introduced. My name is Roganda Ismaren, and this is my son, Irek."

Leia stared. Roganda Ismaren? She remembered her now, one of Palpatine's concubines, met at one court function or other. Leia had been a girl back then, attending those functions at her father's side, usually, and she had had no interest in making the acquaintance of that exquisite group of women that had always seemed to cluster together, watching the others watch them, like some strange, exotic creatures. Her son? Leia's eyes narrowed as she studied the boy more closely. She estimated him two years younger than herself, but there was a darkness about him she found unsettling. Suddenly it came to her. He was Force-sensitive. Well, if his father was who Roganda's past hinted at, this should not have come as a surprise. Palpatine's heir? Maybe. Leia' mind was racing with the possibilities. But then she stopped herself again. Why speculate when Roganda was right there to answer her questions?

"I remember you," she said at last. "And perhaps I should not be surprised that you chose to abandon Coruscant before the Alliance conquered it."

"That was no conquest, my dear. It was a treasonous plot designed by your father and the Grand Admiral. Surprised? I know who you are, and what you are," Roganda countered coolly. 

Leia shook her head. "Why should I be surprised? This has been public knowledge for the past months. I know your kind. I have to deal with them every day. I have heard far worse than this." She smiled again. "So, what do you want? Your son to take his rightful place as Emperor?" The boy gave a soft snort and his mother shot him an icy glare that told Leia a lot of things.

"You may mock me as you wish, Princess, but I am not alone with my views. There are many who still believe in the Empire."

"And many more who curse the Emperor's memory. Whatever you are planning, Roganda Ismaren, you can only fail."

"On the contrary." Reclining in her chair the small woman was smiling warmly. "My son will take what is his, and no one will be able to stop him. Not you, nor your father."

"So it is him you are afraid of? I should have known this was your reason for kidnapping me."

"An insurance, in a sense, yes. But rest assured that we will not harm you more than necessary. Perhaps, when you know everything, you will even come to understand our cause. And join it."

Leia laughed out loud. "Your master has taught you well, Roganda Ismaren. But if even he could not convince me, I doubt you can."

Those black eyes flashed with fury for a second. "We shall see about that, your Highness. Very soon."

"This is unfortunate," Mon Mothma was saying. "I never should have allowed her to leave on that vacation."

"She is her own woman," Padmé countered mildly. 

"And Minister of State," the other woman insisted. They were seated together in the president's office, the tea growing cold in the cups standing on the desk in front of them. Mon Mothma sighed. "I have had Admiral Piett recall the Liberty before he left. He agreed with your husband. If Corellia is involved in this conspiracy, they might have taken the ship's presence as a hostile act and an excuse to refuse any talks with us."

"We do not know if it is a conspiracy yet. Anakin is preparing an investigation, but I fear he does not know where to start."

"What does Page say?"

"He is following Anakin in this. He's the schemer, after all. Once the course is clear, Page will take over."

"A schemer," Mon Mothma mused aloud. "Yes. He is well, I hope?"

"He is holding on to his temper, yes. But he is as worried as I am, maybe even more so."

"I understand. I am worried too, and not only because of Leia's disappearance."

That got Padmé's attention. "Is there something we should know?"

"No, not yet. It is the same your husband has warned me of when we founded this government. The war has not changed anything. The Core worlds might support us, but only because they were hit the hardest. A few others, like Chandrila and its neighbors, are with us too. The rest though..."

Padmé smiled. "So Piett isn't going on vacation, but on a diplomatic mission, am I right?" 

The other woman nodded. "I see I did well in making you Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs."

"Then you should trust me far enough to keep me informed about such things." Padmé saw the uncertainty flicker in Mon Mothma's eyes. "You are worried that I would tell my husband?"

"To be honest, yes. This might sound foolish, but I always feel that he is measuring me by his standards, and I cannot match those. So, if I am to do my job properly, I have to make sure he knows as little as possible about what I am planning."

"Why can't you just accept his advice?" Padmé asked quietly.

Giving her an incredulous look Mon Mothma shook her head. "Because then I might as well admit that he is running the New Republic. I won't do that, Your Highness. I gave a promise to the people, and that includes protecting them from your husband. No, let me finish," she said when Padmé opened her mouth to protest. "I know your husband to some extent, I believe, but most still see a tyrant in him, a butcher, who is still alive purely on sufferance, and because he has atoned for the past by helping us win the war. He will not ever manage to shed that reputation, no matter what he does. Maybe the next generation, or the one after, will be able to give him credit for what he has gone through, what he has endured to achieve peace, but our history will be written in the future, and right now Darth Vader is still alive in the minds of everyone."

"Force help me, I know," Padmé whispered, tears in her eyes. "I wish it weren't so. But you must trust his expertise. You did so in the past, and he has not disappointed you."

Mon Mothma gave her a gentle smile. "You do not understand. I am President of the New Republic. This is my war now, not his. He has done what he could, but now we need others to take over. I have the support of the navy, I know, but they will not be needed in the battles to come. Those will be fought on a diplomatic level. I need you, your daughter, your son even. Mediators, not warriors." She leaned forward and placed a hand lightly on Padmé's forearm. "Will you tell him that?"

She swallowed hard, then nodded. "I will." Anakin would not be pleased. Not pleased at all.

They had left Yavin behind weeks ago, but Belana was suddenly not certain anymore if she had achieved anything there at all. Her eyes were dark with sorrow as she gazed out over the battle-field that went on for miles and miles. She turned her head to look at the tall man standing at her side in the cramped cockpit of the small yacht he had stolen from Coruscant what seemed like years ago. 

"Was that necessary?" she asked quietly.

"Yes." He did not look at her.

"Why?"

"There is no 'why', Belana. I do what I feel is right."

"You killed I don't know many out there. What has that got to do with respect for life?" She was trying hard not to start shaking with the magnitude of what he had just done. Had she misjudged him? If so, she had unleashed a monster on this galaxy that no one would be able to stop. 

He sighed deeply. "You do not understand."

"No." Belana shook her head firmly. "It is you who does not understand. You told me that you want to return to your duties, that you want to remember life over survival, that you would respect it."

She almost screamed when he seized her very suddenly, holding her head in his hands, his pale green eyes locked with hers. "You are a Jedi, Belana. You do not understand death at all. And don't give me that crap about there being no death, only the Force. If that were so you would not try to protect life at all costs."

"Let go," she said very calmly, but inside she was seething with outrage. He had admitted his errors, had realized his mistakes, only to return to his old self again as if nothing had happened, as if none of it mattered at all.

"It does matter, Belana. You reminded me that there was more to survival than I remembered, that feelings play an important role since they spark the desire for survival, the will to go on. You are no survivor, Belana. You would let your enemies strike you down for fear of falling to the Dark Side. You have forgotten the joy of being alive, the joy of pure being. You have given up part of yourself, just as I did."

"I respect life, Kell, and if I were under attack I would defend myself, just as I would protect the defenseless."

"Then don't judge me!" he roared. His right hand slipped around her neck and pushed her toward the viewport. Belana gasped in indignation. He should not be able to manhandle her like this, but somehow the most basic rules of physics did not apply to him. "Watch," he ordered coldly and flung out his left hand toward the wreckage outside. Belana did not know how long it took, but once the images faded and he let go of her again, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Seeking his cold-eyed gaze, she shook her head in denial. 

"That is not right," she managed at last.

"It is life, Belana. Life hurts sometimes, and to respect life means to respect death too. Death itself is not evil."

"You are making this too easy, my friend," Belana whispered. "You cannot justify those deaths with the future. Would you kill a child just because he might turn into a murderer someday? Where do you take that right from?"

"I would never harm a child, no matter what it might become."

"Kell," she shook her head again, this time in sorrow. She understood now why he had become so cold, why he had shielded himself with logic and reason, had locked up his emotions so tightly that they became part of someone else, someone distant. No living mind could cope with this knowledge otherwise. Once upon a time his innocence and ignorance had been his sole protection, the only one he had needed. But with all that had happened, how could he stand this without going mad in the process? Could he finish his journey at all? 

"I know what you are thinking," he said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts mercilessly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Here's a proposal: from this day on I will follow your advice, but under one condition."

"What condition is that?"

"You know now what I am, what my purpose is. I want you to keep that in mind. You promised to stay with me to the end, but I can only finish this if you let me do what I must. Do you agree?"

She nodded numbly. "I agree. Then I will be your conscience when you forget yourself. But don't expect me to share your view."

"I never would," he answered mildly, and for a moment Belana found herself wishing that she had killed him all those years ago. 

As expected, Marten Anderland did not understand the reason for her request, but Yana did not care as long as he got the job done. Seated on the sofa, she gave him a level look that should have shown him what she thought of his protests, but the slicer was not very quick on the uptake sometimes. Fidgeting with his hands, he shrugged uncomfortably, but his face betrayed his emotions clearly. 

"It's just not right, boss," he said again.

"But you can do it."

"Yes, of course -"

"Then why are we holding this discussion, Marten? I am just asking you to hack into the Coruscant Mainframe. That's a piece of cake, as you yourself assured me just a moment ago."

"But planting false information... It just isn't right."

"No one will get harmed by that. Much. The same cannot be said of you if you don't get going right now." She arched an eyebrow meaningfully. "Clear?"

"Yes, boss. Clear," he sighed and his shoulders slumped in quiet defeat. Yana suppressed a smile. Marten was an expert slicer, but he had no backbone, none at all. Which was why she did not tell him anything beyond what his tasks were. 

"Good. On your way out you can tell Abla that I want to see him at once. And tell Sharam that she can get me another drink."

"Sure." Walking away dejectedly Marten was the very impersonation of hurt.

Shaking her head at his retreating back, Yana Dar rose from her seat. She had been cooped up in here for far too long already. It was time for her to have some fun, but perhaps there was a way to combine fun with the work she still had to do. 

Sharam, her Twi'lek servant, came bustling in and left a tray with a pitcher and glasses on the table. A moment later Abla came in, dark eyes looking at her in a silent question. Yana pursed her lips thoughtfully as the door closed behind him. 

"Anything I can do for you?" he asked softly. 

"Yes." Walking over to him she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. "You will get an offer for a job to perform on Corellia. You will accept it."

"Corellia?" he sounded surprised. "You want me to go to Corellia?"

"No, dummy, I want you to get that job done. Ten thousand credits worth, I believe. All yours."

"Wow. Sounds like a treat." Abla was smiling now, and his joy was infectious. Yana laughed.

"Yes, it does." Snuggling against him she closed her eyes. "But alas you will be on your own in this. Our guests are arriving tomorrow and I will be leaving with them for Yaga Minor soon. I hope you don't mind."

"As long as you stay out of trouble, girl."

"Don't worry." She sighed as he started kissing her shoulders tenderly. "Have you made any progress in tracking down Magrody?"

"Not yet. I have made inquiries that might turn up some leads eventually."

"Eventually. Maybe I will find out something tomorrow. We need him."

"I know."

The door slid open almost noiselessly, and Yana growled deep in her throat, angry at the unwelcome intrusion. "Sharam," she snapped as she caught sight of the alien woman over Abla's shoulder. "What is it?"

"His Exalted Highness Joral requires your presence, mistress," the Twi'lek answered demurely, her eyes cast to the floor.

"Does he now," Yana muttered under her breath. "Very well. Six hours. Tell him that."

"Yes, mistress."

Once she had disappeared again Abla's eyes darkened. "What does that Hutt slime want now?"

"I have no idea yet," she replied cautiously. She had her suspicions though. It was no secret that the Hutts were aiming at building their own little Empire, and Joral had dealt with her often enough to have some clue as to how extensive her network really was. With her headquarters in his proximity he had a good position in making claims to being her most-favored customer. He might be useful, but dangerous too. Well, she simply would have to be careful then. Giving Abla a slow smile, she traced her index finger along his jaw gently. "Would you help me get dressed?"

Five hours later she stepped down the landing ramp of her personal yacht Firebird, accompanied only by Sharam. Abla had insisted she take some guards with her, but Yana knew how to play on the Hutt's vanity. He would like seeing her helpless and deferential, and she would give him just that. As long as 

he thought her knowledge useful, he would not harm her, that she was sure of. His majordomo, a fat Twi'lek by the name of Haman, was waiting for her amidst a contingent of Gammorean guards. Yana raised her eyebrows in surprise, but did not comment. 

"His Exalted Highness Joral sends his greetings, Mistress Dar," Haman began, his oily voice as disgusting as ever. He was ogling her openly, and that in itself was even more of an outrage. True, she had chosen her attire for complimenting her figure, but that was for Joral, not his lackeys. Well, Joral would learn of this. Nodding carefully she gave Haman her coldest stare.

"I thank his Highness. Why the escort? Have things turned that bad on Nal Hutta?"

"Not at all. But his Highness wants to extend his courtesy to you, as he would to any ambassador."

"How thoughtful of him." Yana smiled. "Then my thanks must be tenfold. If you would take me to him now?"

"Of course. Transport is waiting outside."

Han Solo was putting on his best face as he was put through to Baron-administrator Calrissian. Who would have thought that a man like Lando would become respectable one day? Lando was a con-man, or had been when he was younger, but apparently he had now decided to do something for his retirement after all. At last the still image of the Bespin Corporation's logo dissolved into the baron's darkly handsome face. He gave Han a long look before he nodded.

"Good to see you again, Han, although it comes a bit of a surprise."

"Really? Well, I thought I might want to say hello."

"And spend a mass of credits on a long-distance hypercomm call? Encrypted, as I notice. What's up?"

Han scowled at him. "Well, since we are done with the pleasantries, I need your help."

"My help? Who's been running across the galaxy playing hero with Chewbacca? No, my friend, I am too old for this."

"Listen, it is urgent."

"Government job?" Lando asked suspiciously.

"No, personal."

"Oh," his friend brightened up. "What happened?"

"That's kinda what I wanted to ask you. Can we meet someplace private?"

"Where are you?" 

"On my way in."

"In?" Lando frowned at something off the screen. "I see. Always good for nasty surprises. I'll have someone escort you over. Is that the Falcon?"

"Of course," Han replied, scandalized. "Think I would exchange her for any other ship?"

"Make your request and I might make you an offer," Lando said with a grin.

"No way. The Falcon's mine," the Corellian growled.

"We'll see for how long. See you later, Han."

So Han found himself following Bespin Security Patrolboats into the cloud-ridden atmosphere of the planet. The sun was playing along the white mist rising from the gas mines, and the gas itself magnified the different hues of the light. It was a magnificent view, and Cloud City, the planet's only major town, rose into the sky like something unreal. It floated on repulsors above the surface, a gigantic umbrella that shone in metallic gray and white as the Falcon drew closer. Han was smiling despite himself. This truly looked like a magical place. And perhaps here he would find the assistance he needed to get Leia back. 

Settling the ship down on one of the city's landing pads, he exited cautiously. No one was waiting for him. He closed in on the blast doors, feeling slightly uneasy. Lando was not exactly a good friend. He had been, a long time ago, but so much had happened that Han could not be sure if he would help him. He could hardly turn back now, though. He had to try, for Leia's sake. 

The door slid open to reveal a bald-headed human who turned out to be a cyborg on second glance. A blinking interface module encircled the back of his head from ear to ear and he gave Han an expressionless look before he turned around, apparently wanting the Corellian to follow. 

Walking through the bright hallways of Cloud City, Han felt strangely elated. It was beautiful - truly so. People were milling along the corridors inside and generous walkways outside, a mix that appealed to Han. They all looked peaceful enough. Lando probably did not allow any thugs in Cloud City. They crossed a domed plaza that sported rows upon rows of balconies seemingly reaching up into the sky and groups of people dotted the square, talking among themselves, haggling, perhaps. They certainly had the air of traders. The Corellian grinned to himself. Lando was probably finding some ways of relieving them of their credits. You could take the con-man out of the fringe, but the con-man remained. 

Then a piece of conversation drifted over, almost making Han stop dead in his stride.

"... know that as well as you do. The question is, how is Joral dealing with it?"

It were not the words themselves, but the voice. Deep and resonant, it seemed designed to captivate the attention of any listener. Han had heard it only once before, and that one time had been enough to never let him forget the owner of that voice. Roj Kell. 

Turning his head carefully he threw a quick glance over the crowd, and he thought he could make out someone in the back, a tall man with long, white hair, but then the cyborg had already led him out of the chamber again. Han suppressed a shiver. Kell was dead, or so he had believed. He would have to ask Lando if he knew anything. And he needed to warn the Republic. There was no telling what the old man was up to, if that really had been him, if he really was alive.

The cyborg entered a turbo-lift, waiting for Han to join him. They went three levels up and found themselves in another hallway, this one empty. The cyborg gestured toward a tall door and nodded. Han went ahead and pressed the door controls.

"Han." Looking up from his desk Lando Calrissian gave him a warm smile. "It's been a long time."

Han nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's true. You've done well, it would seem," he said, taking in the rich surroundings pointedly. Lando laughed.

"Well, we all do what we can. Han Solo, hero of the Rebel Alliance, I hear. You've done pretty well yourself, except for your in-laws, maybe."

"Not yet, not yet," Han sighed wistfully and dropped down in a chair that sat opposite from the desk. 

"You say you need my help," Calrissian began again, more serious this time. "If this has anything to do with the Imperial renegades..." 

Han waved his hand dismissively. "They've kept pretty quiet over the past year and we pick up deserters almost every day."

"I wasn't really talking about the military."

"What?" Sitting forward Han was staring at his friend. "What do you know?"

"Bespin is a haven for everyone who wants to make easy deals, without legal burdens, you understand. Doesn't Karrde know?"

"If he does, he didn't tell me."

Lando smiled smugly. "Ah, interesting. Well, I hear a few things, and they tell me that something's afoot. Something big."

"You can't get any more precise, can you."

"Not yet. Sorry."

"Do you know Yana Dar?"

Calrissian's face lit up. "A very charming lady. Runs her business from Nar Shadaa, very successfully too."

"Can you get me into contact with one of her people?"

"Who?"

"His name is Abla Othana."

"The slicer? That will cost you. He's the best there is."

"Never mind the credits. This is important."

"Well, I can set you two up, no problem, but I want to know why. You said it was personal?"

"I'd rather not tell you."

"Come on!" Lando spread his arms theatrically. "Don't you trust me?"

"Well -"

"All right. A deal then." Lando fixed him with a non-nonsense glare. "I will get you Abla and no questions asked if you tell me what this is about the New Republic preparing for war again."

Han's jaw dropped. "I know nothing about that," he managed at last. "Who started that rumour?"

"I have no idea. So you don't know, eh? What about Vader?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I'm not suicidal. All right, Han, here's the deal: Abla for that piece of information. You've got the connections, and it would mean a lot to me to know for sure."

"Done." Han extended his right hand and Lando took it, squeezing hard. "And now you can tell me what this talk about Joral is about."

Lounging on a heavy stone dais Joral's dark brown bulk almost merged with the gloom that filled his reception hall. Only his golden eyes were clearly visible, and they seemed to want to pierce into her head as she walked closer and stopped at a respectful distance. Bowing slowly Yana was smiling to herself.

"Your Exalted Highness, how may I serve you?" she began formally. He boomed a thunderous laugh.

"In many ways, esteemed Yana Dar, but there is one request I have to make that takes precedence over all others."

"What request is that?"

"You know my plans for the future, Yana Dar, but those plans will not come to fruition without your assistance."

"If you need information I will certainly make a special price for you," she told him with a teasing smile.

"Not information, little human," Joral replied. "I need you to perform a service for me, a small mission."

Yana gritted her teeth. Who did he think he was! But aloud she said: "I am sure we can come to an agreement. What mission is that?"

"I hear many things, Yana Dar, and of late I hear that the Minister of State of the New Republic has disappeared."

"I hear the same."

"Then these rumours are true?"

"They are highly probable," she conceded cautiously. If he suspected that she knew more than he did on the matter...

"I want you to find out where she is and bring her to me. If you do the job no one will suspect me. No one must suspect, Yana Dar, if my plans are to succeed."

"Find her?" She blinked her eyes in surprise. It was not even all fake. "That will take time, Your Highness."

"I have faith in you, Yana Dar."

"An honour," she murmured softly and bowed again. "If I may ask though, what purpose does this mission have?"

"The New Republic will move against us." Suppressing a startled 'what' Yana kept her features blank. That was new to her. She would have to confirm that rumour with her sources on Coruscant immediately once she was back in her office. "If we have the Minister of State we can convince her that we have the means to make that war very bloody."

"And anger her father in the process. Not very healthy that," Yana reminded him.

"Ah, but the esteemed Mon Mothma will not dare unleash him again, lest she lose the support of her allies."

"The navy is on his side more than hers. How do you propose to keep them in check?"

"Do not worry yourself with that, Yana Dar. I trust you will find out soon enough anyway, but for now you need not know more."

She gritted her teeth in frustration. "Of course. Then I shall leave and prepare that little mission for you. With your permission?"

"Of course. Visit me again soon, Yana Dar. I enjoy your company immensely."

That she did not doubt.

On her way back to Nar Shadaa Yana was busying herself with speculations on who might have spread that rumour about the New Republic, and to what purpose. The first who came to mind was Talon Karrde. He had excellent business ties to the new government, but he would not reveal sensitive information if they were not meant to be revealed. Right now she could see no way how such a rumor might benefit the New Republic though, except maybe to keep the Hutts from gaining allies. 

Allies. She could not see Joral accepting any ally at all, at least not on equal terms. Suddenly she wished that Abla and Anderland had already finished their work on the program. She needed that knowledge badly, especially now that circumstances seemed to be changing. 

Another thought came to her. If Ismaren had heard that rumor too, she might not want to come to Nar Shadaa. 

"Sharam," she said softly. "Have there been any calls in my absence?"

"None, mistress."

"Good. If Roganda Ismaren calls I will speak to her without delay."

"Yes, mistress."

Of course, if Ismaren herself was the instigator of that rumor, things looked very different. Leaning back in her seat, Yana permitted herself a tiny smile. With all the various fractions she had to handle, life would not get boring too soon, that much was clear. Good. She hated boredom almost as much as she hated the Hutts. But Joral did not suspect anything yet and she would make sure that he remained ignorant until it was too late. 

"You already talked to Karrde?" Padmé shouted, face red with anger. She seldom lost her temper, but when she did it truly was a sight to behold. Anakin merely shrugged. "I asked you to do what I tell you to, Anakin," she continued more calmly, but she was still furious, he could sense that easily. "Have you forgotten your promise already?"

"There was no time to ask for permission first," he countered, mentally preparing himself for another outburst. It did not come. And the expression on her face, a mixture of disappointment and regret, made his skin crawl with concern. Had he gone too far? Padmé shook her head slowly and sank down on her chair with a drawn-out sigh.

"You are not making things better this way. Why did you do that anyway?"

"I could only think of three factions who might profit from Leia's disappearance. One, the Imperial warlords we haven't managed to get on our side. Yes, I know they've kept to themselves, but if they think our attention might be focused elsewhere, we could goad them into making a fatal move."

"Far too risky. Anakin, they have enough fire-power to rekindle the war, and Mon Mothma won't let you command the fleet again. The New Republic would be easy game if they move fast enough. And you want to provoke them?"

"Just listen, okay? The second faction are the remnants of Palpatine's court. They might merge with the military, maybe they already have, but I know for sure they would only grudgingly agree to share power with the army. If they believe we are targeting the Hutts, they might also make the same mistake and try to find allies against us. Should they put in their lot with the warlords, they'll wait until our back is turned, too."

"I see. And the third?"

"The Hutts, obviously."

"What's the catch here?"

"If they have Leia, they will produce her soon enough to keep us away. If they are smart though, they won't do that."

"Then we have gained nothing. Anakin, this is all speculation." She frowned at him. "Or is it?"

Anakin smiled broadly. "Well, not entirely. Solo called. He had some news."

"What news?"

"First, he has found himself a slicer and he wanted money to pay him off. So don't be alarmed if our account dwindles a bit. I gave him the codes." Now Padmé looked amused. "What?"

"Nothing, dear. I just thought for someone who threatened to rip his heart out, among a few other things, you are surprisingly generous."

"Well, she is my daughter too. And Solo has his good sides, admittedly. Sometimes."

"Very generous indeed," Padmé mused aloud. "The other news?"

"Apparently there's some rumor floating about. You know that Joral has more or less inherited Jabba's little empire?" She nodded. "Apparently he wants to expand. The problem is that some Twi'lek are thinking about breaking their business ties with the Hutts and come to the New Republic instead."

Laughing out loud Padmé rose from her seat and came over to hug him. "Anakin! That is brilliant! I suppose Karrde will get into contact with that group for us?"

"Of course. Maybe we can use them to scare off Joral's supporters. Then he'll forget about expansion fast."

Patting his chest, Padmé was grinning at him. "That was a very good idea." She sobered again. "Unfortunately I have some bad news for you."

"What bad news?"

"Mon Mothma wants you to keep out of her affairs. In short, my dear, you have been retired."

"What? I thought she wanted my military advice?"

"She says the war ahead is a diplomatic one and that she wants to fight it without your help."

"I see. You will not be able to tell me anything of what is going on any longer?" She nodded mutely. Anakin felt like cursing. "Nice. She is pushing me out of the government and I am left to twiddle my thumbs. I should have known she would get back at me for taking charge during the war. What does she think I'll keep myself busy with?" 

"I don't know. Gardening?" Padmé giggled. "Anakin, you have to understand her point of view."

"I do, believe me, but I don't like it."

"Understandable. I will try to convince her otherwise. She has to see reason too. She might deny it but she needs you."

"There's a great difference between what we want and what we need. Well, I know what I need."

"Do you?"

"Yes. A vacation. So maybe I will let you run the show for a change."

Squinting at him suspiciously, Padmé was silent for quite some time. Finally she asked, very slowly and deliberately. "Anakin Skywalker. What are you really up to?"

TBC

****


	6. Chapter 5 - Duties

****

Chapter 5 - Duties

  
  
  
  


"Leia!"

That single word could not express the horror Luke felt, not nearly enough, but right then and there it focused his fear and shock on the beloved person he had just lost. His sister was gone. Eyes wide and mouth hanging open in the aftermath of the initial shock he did not react when Nuron tapped his shoulder gently.

"Luke?" she asked very softly. "What happened?"

"She is gone..." His voice quavered with emotion as he turned his head to face the Zabrak's concerned gaze. "As if her presence has been eradicated. I think..." he trailed off, but then his voice found some strength again. "I think she might be dead," he finished in a hoarse whisper.

"No!" Nuron gave him an incredulous look, her features turning into a rigid mask of shock that mirrored Luke's own. "No. Not Leia!" She sat back in her seat, her shoulders slumped. For a long moment neither said a word. Then the sound of running feet brought them out of their stupor. Chi'in, who had spent the past hours in the back compartment of his ship, the Ardana Ver, burst into the cockpit. His huge black eyes scanned the faces of Luke and Nuron, then he stepped closer cautiously.

"What has happened?"

"You did not feel it?" Luke asked weakly.

"No. I heard you shout..."

"Leia..." Suddenly grief was choking his voice mercilessly. "She's gone," he said between gritted teeth that held back a tiny wail of loss. Tears were flowing down his cheeks freely now.

Chi'in only looked at him. The Noghri stood perfectly still, completely focused. Finally he nodded. "You are right. I cannot sense her presence any longer."

Luke tried to suppress a sob, but failed miserably. "I don't know what to do," he pleaded, "Chi'in, what am I to do now?"

His friend lay his hands on his shoulders gently, looking him straight in the eye. "We do not know anything yet," Chi'in explained. "Do not give up yet."

"But what if she is really dead?" Luke wiped at his eyes futilely. "I always thought I would know if she died, I always could tell when she was injured, but now... Now I do not want to trust my feelings. They are so confusing!"

"In what way?"

"I know I have lost her, but I cannot give up hope, can I?"

"No. Never that. Can you describe those feelings to me?" Luke tried his best. In the end Chi'in squeezed his shoulders hard, his claws digging into the young Jedi's flesh painfully. "Luke, I believe your sister is alive," he told him at last, very softly.

"How do you know?" Luke asked suspiciously.

"Being a Sith has to be good for something, am I right? It is a Dark Side technique, to separate the spirit from the body. If the spirit cannot return, though, the body will die, and then the spirit will be lost. Very dangerous for the victim. Han Solo has to find her fast."

"I have to go back and help him," Luke stated firmly, but Chi'in shook his head.

"Your place is here, at my side. Luke, there is so much you have to learn yet, you and Nuron, if we are to succeed. I need you here. I really do."

Luke stared at the Noghri in amazement. Of all the things that could have happened, never ever would he have suspected that Chi'in would plead for help like this. He never did. It was impossible. Pressing his lips together in tight determination the young Jedi pried the alien's hands from his shoulders. It was true. He could not help Han. It would take weeks to track the Corellian down and by then it could be too late for Leia. "That decision is not easy," he began.

"Many decisions are not."

"What can I learn here?"

"A hard lesson, I assure you, but vital for you and this galaxy."

"Chi'in, why are we really here?" Nuron asked suddenly. "Why did you wait for us to begin this trip? Why didn't you take Puket and Naas Deron with you?"

"Because of what you are. You have potential, you have determination and a strong sense of duty. 

I do not want to belittle Puket and Deron, but they will always stay soldiers. You two were meant for something else."

"What would that be?" Luke asked more harshly than he had intended. The Noghri's dark eyes fastened on him.

"To change this galaxy." 

"What do you mean?"

The sound of the nav comm's gentle warning beep interrupted him. "We are here, it would seem," Chi'in stated calmly, ignoring Luke's question completely. 

"Really?" Nuron sat forward when the Noghri drew the hyperdrive lever back and brought the ship back into realspace. Luke did not register the planet spread out before them at first, his mind still numbed by his sister's disappearance. But very soon his thoughts had focused entirely on the glowing green jewel of a planet below. 

"Almashin," Chi'in said, gesturing toward the green ball of life. "Homeworld of the Chiss."

Luke felt his mouth drop open. "It is amazing," he managed at last. "So green."

"Yes, indeed. We have an appointment with Syndic Bal'maw'narda, so we had better hurry. Ah," the Noghri nodded to himself, "company is already coming."

At the same time the radar lit up, signaling six small vessels approaching fast. "Our escort?" Nuron asked softly.

"Of course. Do not worry. We are safe here. Let's go and greet them, shall we?"

  
  
  
  


Anakin Skywalker felt as if he had been cut open from head to toe, and unfortunately his shock showed plainly on his face. His counterpart, seated across from him in one of the booths of the Lahmash Club in downtown Coruscant, frowned at him. Raisa Tobyn was not a beauty, not by usual standards. They had been meeting for the past week, as the Dark Lord was trying to enlist new agents, hidden from official eyes, to do his bidding in these difficult times. He had found Raisa to be a very bright, capable woman, who knew how to listen and noticed things others didn't. Right now though that was a rather unwelcome trait.

"Is something wrong?" Raisa asked quietly in that commanding tone of hers. Anakin did not answer right away, trying to ignore the taste of bile rising up his throat. What had happened? It had felt as if Leia... No. She could not be dead!

"It is nothing."

Raisa did not buy it, that he could feel easily, but she did not press him. Smart woman. Averting her eyes, she scanned the crowd that filled the bar leisurely. She had told him a bit about herself, how she had made her living on odd jobs, working as a mercenary or guard, a smuggler at times. She was the elder sister of Alus Tobyn, a stormtrooper Darth Vader had had executed for one offence or other. Anakin could not remember the man, but in Raisa's stories Alus had become a familiar face in the otherwise pretty faceless crowd of the Dark Lord's victims. 

He found himself reminded of one of the first lectures Roj Kell had given him on Korriban, all those years ago: regret is the first step toward weakness. In a sense Anakin understood. If you only counted the losses, you forgot the entire picture, lost sight of your goals, your motivation, and in the end you would lose everything. Yet the dead had to be remembered too. The war had cost so many lives, and more deaths would follow, but Anakin had vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep the losses minimal. It was another lesson he had learned from Roj Kell: the respect for life and death.

Leia.

What had happened? There had been this ripping sensation that had torn the bond he shared with his daughter, severing it completely. He wiped a hand over his eyes, trying to hide the tears. "I need a break," he said quietly, not meeting Raisa's questioning gaze. 

"Sure." Her voice was surprisingly gentle. "You will get back at me on those names I gave you?"

He nodded weakly. She had unearthed some more of her friends and acquaintances, who might be willing to join his team. Desperate men and women of various species, victims of the war, the Empire. Anakin knew he could not refuse them help. He owed them too much. Just as he owed his daughter. What could he do? As Raisa left, he reached out to the Force again, trying to find Leia's presence. There was nothing. 

Suddenly another thought hit him. Luke. Almost jumping up from his seat, he made his way out quickly. He needed to reach the boy, talk to him, soothe him. They needed to talk. And Padmé had to learn of this too. 

Outside acid rain was drizzling down on the dirty permacrete of the pavement. Fitting for his mood, he thought glumly. His heart was racing with worry and sheer dread. His daughter, his precious little daughter gone. He could not quite believe it. Did not want to believe it. He pressed his eyes close for a moment. He needed to contact Han, check his progress, and he needed to get Jix and Mara on her trail too. Damn! Hurrying home, Anakin Skywalker felt like a drawn-out string ready to snap.

Padmé was waiting for him, and she looked very pale. Had she heard already? Frowning slightly he walked into the room cautiously.

"What is it?"

"There was a message from Karrde. Puket said it was urgent and told me."

"What did she say?"

"Roj Kell is alive. He is on Ryloth, apparently, and he is planning something with the Hutts."

Anakin stared. "What?" he managed at last and found his knees giving way underneath him. Dropping into a chair he felt suddenly very weary. "Alive? I-" Icy dread gushed through his veins as he remembered the disturbance he had sensed just before Leia's presence had vanished. If Kell had harmed his daughter ... Looking up, he met Padmé's concerned gaze as she walked up to him and placed her hands on his knees.

"Anakin, what is going on? You look as if you've seen a ghost or something."

He took a deep breath and held it for a short while before he exhaled again, feeling his mind rebel at the thought of telling her that her daughter might be dead. But he knew he had no choice. "There is something I need to tell you," he began. "Something bad."

  
  
  
  


Abla Othana had the look of prime galactic slime. His brown hair had been cut microscopically short and a three-day old stubble of a beard just looked perfect on him. His dark brown eyes were studying Han with barely concealed amusement through the smoke of best Alhan t'bac he was smoking in a slim cigar. 

"Ten thousand, Solo. That's my last word," the slicer said calmly.

"Ten thousand credits!" Han shouted, but Lando lay a cautioning hand on his arm. They were seated together in a small booth of the Neardawn Club, one of the less expensive bars on Nar Shadaa. Han and Lando had left the Millennium Falcon at the North Port to meet Abla Othana here. The man had arrived alone, far as they had been able to tell. Alone and with that infuriating smile on his lips. 

"Listen," the Corellian hissed, "I only asked you to hack into Coronet's portfiles, not the Coruscant Mainframe!"

"That might have been the easier job," Othana told him coolly and drew on his cigarette. 

"What?"

"Han!" Lando shot him a meaningful glare, then directed a smooth smile at the slicer. "Mister Othana, you must be joking. Ten thousand credits! We will give you five. That should suffice to cover your expenses."

Abla Othana laughed softly. "Are you kidding me, Calrissian? I am the best. I have a price. And the price for this job is ten thousand credits."

Han groaned softly. "All right!" He grimaced at Lando. It did not matter that it were not his credits. Not at all. He simply did not like the man! But for Leia he would pay that price to that gundark-loving moron.

"You made the right choice, Solo," Othana replied with a wide grin as he transferred the credits onto his own account. "A good choice."

"And now I want something for my credits, you hear me?" Han snapped. 

"Sure thing. This datacard contains the copied files of Coronet's port registry for the time frame you gave me. An interesting read, by the way. Your quarry seems to be number eleven-two-B Armosy, a private yacht, that lifted off Altara Dengan's private port. I did a bit of additional tracking, ownership and so on. Have a look and you'll see it's worth the credits." He rose from his seat gracefully. "See you around, Solo. Nice meeting you, Calrissian. Boss has been asking after your health."

The baron grinned widely. "Really? Well, give your charming boss my regards."

"Certainly."

Once the man had left, Han gave his friend a calculating glance. "You know Yana Dar personally?"

"We have met."

"Good-looking?"

"Words cannot begin to describe her. She's hot."

"I get it." Han sighed inwardly. All he could think of was Leia. Was she well? Was she missing him? Someone shook him gently. 

"Han," Lando whispered. "Hey, buddy, wake up!"

"What?"

His friend's voice took on an urgent tone. "There's someone watching us."

"Do we know him?" Han whispered just as softly, but did not look around, so as not to draw attention to them. 

"I wish we didn't. He's a bounty-hunter, one of the best there are." 

Han groaned softly. "A bounty-hunter?"

"You remember Boba Fett, don't you? Damn! He's seen us!"

"Boba Fett?" Han's jaw dropped.

"I told you it was crazy to come here in the first place, knowing that Joral wants your head," the baron hissed under his breath his dark eyes narrowed.

"He wants my credits, Lando, nothing more." And in this case it weren't even his. Skywalker would kill him for this one. This time he would for sure. 

Suddenly a shadow blocked out the light in front of him. He looked up into the rounded helmet that hid the bounty-hunters face completely.

"Solo?" The voice was slightly contorted, as if he were talking through a vocoder. Han found himself reminded of the Dark Lord all too much.

"Yeah, that's me," he answered hoarsely. At his side he felt Lando shift his weight, undoubtedly to reach for his blaster. Fett did not move a muscle, but suddenly he radiated pure menace. Lando relaxed again.

"You have something that belongs to Joral," Fett continued.

"Really?"

"He wants to see you. Now."

Han smiled desperately. "How nice! Well, as it is, I do have what he wants right here with me."

"Good. Come, you are expected."

  
  
  
  


Yana Dar was regarding the Princess' still body with a mixture of regret and exasperation. She did not even make an effort at understanding Irek's motives right then, what concerned her more was that he was out of control. Right now Roganda was talking to him quietly, soothing words mixed with harsh ones, and he listened with a sullen expression on his face. Yet his eyes never left Yana. She ignored him as best as she could, deciding to play the role he wanted her to play: an older sister, experienced, tough, knowledgeable and smart. Yana suspected that what Irek had missed most, as he had grown up, had been someone who did not fulfill his every wish, someone who dared oppose him openly. His mother, Yana knew, was far too soft to deny her son much, even though Roganda might believe that the little control she seemingly had over Irek was the same as authority, not just a grown child's affectionate tolerating of a mother's errant wishes. 

Not surprisingly, regarding who he was, Irek had surpassed his mother very quickly, His natural potential, combined with his specific training, made him a dangerous weapon, one that only his father would have been able to handle properly. Luckily Palpatine had died before he could have claimed Irek. Yana would not have appreciated that at all. Her hatred for the old man went so far as to give protection to those he had slighted, used and abused, even to her brother. Half-brother, she corrected herself mentally. It was well to always remember that he was not like her, not at all. Yet that difference gave her one advantage. He was curious, and his curiosity would let him tolerate his 'sister' for as long as she amused him. Curiosity was also the only way to guide him, even if she could only hope to lead him into a general direction. It would have to be enough. 

"What do you say, sister?" he asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. 

"It was a foolish move. What have you been thinking?" She threw him a quick grin. "You weren't jealous, were you?"

He blushed a deep red, as Yana noticed with delight. It was a shame, really, he was such a lovable boy, if it had not been for his badly twisted soul. The poor thing had been raised as a tool for his father, and his mother could not satisfy his intellectual needs. No wonder Roganda had agreed so readily to let Yana and Irek become acquainted. Perhaps an older sister could set him straight again.

"Do you know how to bring her back?"

"No." His face fell at the recognition of his own failure. 

"A shame. Well, she should be able to hold out until we reach Yaga Minor, and there I will contact my sources back on Nar Shadaa. I think I may have something to help us here." 

She barely noticed the hissing sound that escaped Irek's mouth, but she did, and it worried her. Why had he done this? He must realize that the Princess could only serve them while alive. Reaching out gingerly, she touched the woman's forehead. Her skin was cool, but not cold, and she looked unharmed. Yet Yana could sense something amiss in her too. Focusing all her strength, she concentrated. _Wherever you are, Leia, if you know a way back, please, don't leave us now._

Roganda joined her side and lay a hand on her arm. "Come," the other woman said quietly. "We have a lot to prepare."

  
  
  
  


Opening her eyes, Leia had the weird feeling that her eyes had been open all the time, that she was just becoming aware of her surroundings. Still lying on her bunk aboard the nameless ship that was carrying them to Yaga Minor, Leia gave a start when she saw a stranger stand over her. She had never seen the woman before, but the sweet face framed by long, dark brown hair, wore a friendly expression. The Princess frowned slightly, then rose easily, as if she were floating through the air. The other woman took a step back, respecting her private space, and her dark brown eyes reflected the smile she wore on her full lips. She was tall, considerably taller than Leia. 

"Who are you?" the Princess asked. Once the words were out of her mouth, she noticed the woman's clothing, very similar to the dark brown robes she knew the Jedi had worn. A Jedi? Here? 

"My name is Belana Jen," the stranger answered calmly, her warm voice incredibly soothing. Leia stared. 

"But you are dead!" was all she managed. Suddenly recollection hit her. "Does that mean I am dead too?" she asked at last. Irek had done something to her, she remembered. She had lost consciousness for Force knew how long and now she was seeing a dead woman's spirit! 

Belana Jen turned her head carefully toward one corner of the room and raised her eyebrows. Following her gaze Leia froze. She had not noticed the other occupant of the room before; he was shrouded in shadows, almost invisible in the gloom. But amidst the darkness surrounding him, his green eyes were glowing like pale gemstones.

"I did not anticipate it to be you," Roj Kell explained pensively, his voice creating tiny eddies of golden light in the air, as if the words themselves were magical. Perhaps in this place they truly were.

"What do you mean?" the Princess asked, confused. "What happened?"

"The living dead shall resurrect the glory of the past," Kell quoted in a stately tone. "Part of the Jen'da prophecies." He smiled at Leia. "Personally I do not trust prophecies. Most are created for a very specific purpose." 

"Tell me what is going on!" she snapped, annoyed. The man was infuriating. Why did he always have to talk in riddles? "Am I dead or not?"

"You are both."

"What? That is impossible." She shook her head in disbelief. 

"Not impossible. Trust me in that, my existence was based on the very same principle for the past three thousand years."

Leia felt her mind overcome with panic. She was dead? And alive? She shuddered slightly. To be trapped between two worlds for an eternity... "I thought I might be given a choice," she croaked, feeling dizzy. Sensations? She could feel something even while being dead? It seemed impossible, illogical.

"You aren't dead, I already told you that. And you have a choice."

"What choice?"

It took him three long strides to reach her across the small room, and when he was standing in front of her, as towering as her father, Leia realized that she was not afraid of him any more. His presence was not obscuring her vision, was not crowding her mind at all. It was an elating feeling, meeting him on almost equal terms. 

"I will show you," he said softly, and smiled.

The cabin interior vanished and gave way to a lush, sub-tropical mountain forest. Mist hung in shreds among the high treetops, like an intricate cobweb. The green world seemed mystical, unreal, and Leia was not at all sure if it existed anywhere in their galaxy. Sensing the Princess' uneasiness Belana Jen reached out to hold her hand and squeezed it briefly before she let go again with a smile. 

"Do not be afraid, Leia," the Jedi Master whispered. "Just be yourself."

They stood at the foot of a steep stairwell that had been hewed into the side of the mountain roughly. Time had left its marks on the ancient structure, and it was almost completely overgrown with thick-leaved plants. Leia craned her neck, but failed to make out the top of the stairs. They vanished somewhere in the mist, keeping the mountain's secret hidden from her view. She lowered her gaze with a sigh and regarded quietly the Sith Lord standing with his back to her. He seemed entranced by their surroundings and did not even react when Belana went forward and lay an arm around his shoulders. Leia frowned at the couple deeply and a pang of loss enveloped her heart as she thought of Han. He must be beside himself with worry for her. That thought warmed her soul.

"This is where it all began," the ancient Sith explained, his beautiful voice taking on a lecturing tone. "According to my people's history this place gave shelter to the Jen'da, a sect of Force-sensitive beings, millennia ago, who would later become the Jedi Order. They came from all over the galaxy, drawn by the call of the Force. Centuries went by, while they tried to explain the power they had uncovered. They wrapped it in philosophy, in science, but they were unable to unlock its meaning. Force-sensitivity, Princess, is not restricted to the Jedi Order. Everything carries the Force within itself, this mountain as much as the mist above us. You cannot define the Force as life either, because it is far more than that, yet the Jen'da sect made life its vigil. To protect and to serve the Force was their battle-cry. My own people, the Sith, took a different point of view. The heart of our culture was to preserve the balance we found around us. To every more advanced culture our customs must have seemed barbaric, cruel even, but they were not harsher than those of any other more 'primitive' culture." He spread his arms in an almost apologetic gesture, but the mocking smile on his lips distorted that gesture immensely. "Yet ours was the only one that embraced the Force," he continued softly.

"What has that got to do with me?" Leia asked, wanting to cut this short. She needed to go back, she needed to stop Irek before he could do anything worse than almost kill her.

"Everything," Kell answered. "There is a point in everyone's life when he or she has to choose what path to take. As a Jedi you have been given even more responsibility in making that choice. And you _are_ a Jedi, Princess, not just any politician. You have a duty to the Force."

Leia raised her eyebrows questioningly. "I have a duty to the people of the New Republic," she corrected him coolly. When he lowered his head with a loud growl, as if preparing to attack, she took a step back involuntarily, shocked at the sudden outburst. 

"Untrue!" he snapped. "You are taking too narrow a view! Even if you see your duty restricted to your people, you _must_ consider the interfering variables. You must!" 

Laying a hand on his shoulder soothingly, Belana Jen threw Leia a mournful glance. "You understand, don't you, the complexity of that task?" the Jedi Master asked. "This is your choice, Princess. You are a politician, and you know that differing goals and ambitions will always and forever make your work a very difficult one. We are not asking you to be unrealistic, just to take more possibilities into account. One possibility is the loss of something you hold dear." 

"What would that be?" Leia asked, suddenly feeling very cold. 

"Your idealism. Forget about bringing everyone around to your view. Forget about forging a great galactic family. Prepare to fight and stand your ground every day of your life. You have to lead them, or else they will do whatever they please. But leadership can be open or hidden. Your father chose to follow the example of a warrior, while your mother decided to use more delicate methods." Belana smiled at her warmly. "I was never one to resort to manipulation. I was always sincere in whatever I did and said. That too, is a possibility that is open to you. It is perhaps the most dangerous though."

Leia felt her mouth drop open at the magnitude of what they were asking of her._ I am not ready for this!_ she wanted to scream, but she was unable to utter any word at all. Roj Kell tossed his head in an arrogant display of impatience and disengaged from his lover briskly. 

"You do not have to decide right now," he explained coldly as he turned away, toward the mountain face. "As far as I recall, there are three thousand steps to take," he said and nodded at the weathered stairwell. "Sufficient time to think everything through." He threw her a mischievous glance and smiled. "I suppose they built this thing to show their dedication. At the top you will definitely find out who is a master and who isn't. Come, let's go."

  
  
  
  


Stretched out on the bed, Padmé stared straight up at the ceiling, seeing nothing. Her face was deadly pale, her skin cold and unshed tears quivered in her dark brown eyes. However still she might appear on the outside, though, her thoughts were racing, asking questions, demanding answers incessantly. She was listening with indifference to the discussion Anakin was holding with Luke via hypercomm. It did not concern her. Nothing did any longer. Her heart cramped in sorrow and a tiny wailing sound escaped her mouth as she thought of her daughter, her bright, beautiful daughter, who was such an amazing personality, so strong, so brave, so compassionate. Padmé wanted to shout at her husband, scream at him, accuse him of having done too little. But she knew it was useless, although she wished the truth were not so cruel. They could not have done more. There had been too little time. A thousand excuses, and none of them valid. None of them could erase the loss they had suffered, could bring Leia back. So she simply lay there, very still, wanting to die. 

  
  
  
  


Luke was smiling at the sound of his father's voice, the relief in his tone when Luke told him of Chi'in's suspicion concerning Leia's disappearance. Father was not entirely convinced, but then, he would not believe anything if it was not proven right there in front of his very eyes. 

"Is he certain?"

"As certain as you and me, but he says we shouldn't lose hope."

"Damn, no! Never that. I will try to get word to Han. Your mother is heart-broken over this. We all are," Father added wistfully.

"Have you told Mon Mothma?"

"No, not yet. I have to get over the shock myself first. It helps to talk though." Father hesitated for a brief moment, then his tone became almost pleading. "Luke, I want you to tell Chi'in to abort the mission and return to Niaruan with you. It is urgent."

Luke felt taken aback. Abort the mission? What could be so important? "I will tell him," he said at last. "Any reason I should give him to convince him to reconsider?"

"Tell him I said so. If that is not enough, tell him that we have some trouble that might change circumstances in the Unknown Regions. Try whatever you think might work."

"All right. Please, give Mother a big hug from me."

"Sure. I will call you again as soon as possible."

The call disconnected, leaving Luke very pensive. It took him some time to get back into the here and now, but when he finally rose from his seat in the office of Syndic Bal'maw'narda he was completely focused again. They had reached Almashin's major port, Anmedra, an hour ago and Chi'in had allowed him to go ahead and make a call to Coruscant. He had been directed to this office, which bore simple, severe furniture as unelaborate as anything he had seen of the capital so far. Apparently the Chiss did not think much of unnecessary pomp. Yet this simplicity appealed to him too. It was without any hidden currents, clear and honest. When he pushed the door open, a tall Chiss was waiting for him and silently took the lead as he guided him back toward the meeting hall. 

The Council was still in session, so Luke was led into the anteroom, where Nuron stood at the tall window overlooking the inner courtyard of the complex, and Chi'in was deep in conversation with Naas Deron. Luke had been surprised to find the Sith warrior here, but Chi'in had explained that the Sith had joined the Chiss' efforts for now and that Deron was acting as ambassador. 

"Chi'in?" the young Jedi called softly to get the other's attention. Turning his head toward him the Noghri hesitated, then came over.

"What is it? What does your father say?"

"He says to abort the mission and return to Niaruan," Luke related Anakin's message.

"Abort the mission?" Cocking his head to one side in an uncharacteristic gesture of insecurity, Chi'in studied him intently. "What about Leia?"

"He has faith."

"Good. The mission will not be aborted."

"But he said it is urgent. Circumstances might change-"

"They are changing already. We can only make a difference here, Luke."

Taken slightly aback by his friend's icy tone, Luke suppressed another protest. He had always believed that Chi'in would follow Anakin in everything, that his loyalty to the Dark Lord was unquestionable. Apparently he had been wrong. "If you say so," he conceded at last, "but on your responsibility."

"Of course."

Luke shrugged uneasily. "I thought it was odd that you claimed we came on behalf of the Sith, not the Chiss base on Niaruan."

"Odd? We are no Chiss, in case you hadn't noticed. Besides, mentioning Thrawn here would be a bit tactless."

"How so?"

"He is an outcast. Worse, some see him as a traitor to his own race, because he brought the Empire here. His intentions, of course, were good, but intentions don't count for much in the face of the law."

"An outcast?"

"The Chiss do not believe in preemptive strikes. They are proud warriors, but very set in their ways and traditions. Thrawn recognized the signs of the times and took matters in his own hands. The initial incident, I believe, was the annihilation of a people Thrawn had identified as possibly very dangerous." Chi'in gave the young Jedi a mirthless grin full of needle-sharp teeth. "He was right about that, I suspect, but traditions are traditions. Thrawn was exiled. Despite his efforts he has not managed to redeem himself fully, though."

"I see."

"Perhaps you do. I doubt it though. It took me long months to understand their culture, and I do not claim that my knowledge is complete."

"Well, okay, you are right. So I remain ignorant for now," Luke answered. When a warm presence brushed past his mind and slender arms slipped around his waist he smiled. Hugging him to her, Nuron lay her head on his shoulder.

"What are we doing here anyway?" she asked Chi'in testily.

"We will see the Council and gain permission to conduct our research. Out where we are going the Chiss don't ask questions first, so we had better announce our presence beforehand."

"Is it truly that dangerous?"

"Yes."

Another Chiss appeared in the doorway, signaling them to follow. They marched into the meeting hall in single file, with Chi'in in the lead. Luke kept his eyes focused on the beings seated in a semi-circle at the far end of the chamber. The one in the middle, his hair completely white, nodded at them as they came closer.

"Master Chi'in. It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine, Syndic Bal'maw'narda." Bowing slightly, the Noghri indicated his companions. "I have the honor to introduce to you Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin."

"Welcome to Almashin," the Syndic replied gravely. His glowing red eyes mustered Luke with interest. 

"They are also Sith?"

"They follow me, yes," Chi'in answered smoothly.

"And they wish to accompany you, I see. Very well. You know what is awaiting you, I assume. The Ardana Ver will be signed as friendly on the list, of course. Nevertheless I advise you to avoid the Lieman Corridor."

"Anything unusual there?"

"Perhaps."

"You found battle debris?" the Noghri asked patiently.

"Yes."

Chi'in nodded to himself. "With your permission, I would like to investigate further."

"Then I will inform Commander Al'than'erudo. He is commanding our forces in the Corridor. This will take some time though, and I would ask you to return tonight for further instructions."

"Of course. Thank you for your patience, Syndic. We are grateful for your assistance."

"As we are for yours."

  
  
  
  


He had left the others to go on a tour around Anmedra with Naas Deron as guide, and Chi'in remembered well the look Luke had given him, when he and Nuron had left him. A knowing gaze, with a hint of disapproval. The Noghri could hazard a guess as to what the young man was thinking: that he had shed his bonds to the Dark Lord, that he was dreaming his own dream. In a way that was even true. He had to find his own way now. 

Almost a year ago he had held a most vivid discussion with Master Yoda and Roj Kell on the future of the Jedi, and he had put much thought on this topic. The conclusion he had come to had been sobering, and he suspected that Roj Kell would agree wholeheartedly: the Old Republic government had treated the Jedi as pets, a useful institution in some ways, but annoying too. Of course, there had to be valiant knights to protect the innocent, their very presence giving a boost to the government's own reputation, but should they dare bite the hand that fed them... At the time of the rise of the Emperor the ideals of the republic had been eroded by corruption, the result of Palpatine's patient manipulation, undoubtedly. A perfect basis for the genocide that had followed the Clone Wars. 

They could not let that happen again. They had been given the chance to start anew and Chi'in did not want to leave the Jedi to the government's mercy, and he was the only one who could achieve that goal too. The Dark Lord might have planned to create a hidden order that was out of the government's jurisdiction, but Mon Mothma kept a close watch on him. It was very clear to Chi'in that Anakin Skywalker was a prisoner in all but name, useful, but too dangerous to be left alone. In a way the President of the New Republic acted the same way Palpatine had toward Roj Kell. The Noghri smiled to himself. They had all seen how well that had turned out, hadn't they? 

He understood too, of course, that Mon Mothma's intentions where very different from the late Emperor's. She wanted to respect the common understanding of justice, and therefore the Dark Lord had to be punished in some way. On the other hand it helped her standing too. A difficult puzzle. Although Chi'in trusted Anakin to get out of this mess on his own - he certainly had the mind for it - he doubted that he would manage in time. 

Therefore he had really only one choice left. He needed to convince Luke and Nuron to join him, needed to show them that they had to leave the shadow of the New Republic, had to find their own way in this galaxy. This he wanted to achieve on the mission ahead. He had spent long months alone in Wild Space, exploring its dangers carefully. Chi'in was well aware of the fact that the fledgling New Republic had troubles of its own, but the Jedi could not help building a government. That task fell to the Princess, to the Dark Lord and his wife. Politics could not interest the order Chi'in wanted to form. They had to instruct the people on ethics, to teach them to follow their hearts, to trust their own minds. Apart from that it would be their task to ease people's lives, to make them feel safe. Then, and only then, the citizens of the New Republic would be able to control their government, could make it a true democracy. 

A monumental task, and Chi'in could feel that time was running short already. There was a storm coming, and it would burn away all weakness. A storm of darkness that would leave the light behind. In a sense he was even looking forward to it. Again he found himself reminded of Roj Kell's cold logic that followed the rules of survival. When it came down to that, the weak would perish, as simple as that. Chi'in did not accept that view. He wanted to save as many as possible. But he did not have the courage to do it the hard way. It needed someone else, someone with a heart that could enfold the entire galaxy, everything, who was ready to provide hope incessantly. Over the previous months he had found one such heart: that of Luke Skywalker. 

The young man was what the Jedi had been meant to be, a guardian. No warrior, no teacher, no guide. But all four were needed to make the impossible happen. Chi'in knew that he for one was a teacher, always had been. He had found his guardian, but he still had to find the warrior and the guide. The Noghri had considered Nuron Sarin to become what the Dark Lord had destined her to be, what she had hoped to become all her life. Now she would get the chance to prove herself. 

"You seem pensive," a calm voice announced. Chi'in did not turn around. He had felt the Syndic approach already a few moments ago. Joining him where he stood at the wide windows overlooking the inner courtyard, Bal'maw'narda regarded the gardens silently, waiting for the Noghri to answer.

"There is much to think about," he replied at last. "Have you managed to reach Commander Al'than'erudo?"

"Not yet. Tell me, Chi'in, what is it you hope to find out there?"

"Enlightenment. A path for the future to follow. I am not certain yet."

Bal'maw'narda laughed, a very rare sound from his mouth. "Good! Very good! Master Chi'in, your wisdom truly is unparalleled."

The Noghri smiled coldly. "I have to disappoint you there, Syndic. That 'unparalleled' wisdom is lost forever, I fear."

"A shame."

  
  
  
  


The wide parks were amazing in their simple complexity. Beautiful, Luke thought, as beautiful as the discovery of a unique thought. He held Nuron's hand tightly, unashamed, and ignored the smiles Naas Deron was throwing them. They were walking side by side, and he felt completely at peace. Nuron was a warm fire, burning with love and full of fond pride in her companion. Looking over at her, he smiled at her beautiful face, her golden eyes. Then he threw a glance at Naas Deron over his shoulder.

"It is so peaceful here," he said.

"Just on the surface," the Sith answered calmly. "Their culture is complex, very dignified, and bound to the rules of their hierarchy."

"Chi'in says you are acting as ambassador. So, what do you do all day?"

"Listen, mostly, and learn. Not very interesting."

"And spy for Thrawn?"

Naas Deron gave him a cold smile. "Perhaps."

Stopping suddenly Nuron whirled around to face the two men. She regarded Naas Deron through slitted eyes, mustering him with barely concealed contempt. Luke knew she did not like Deron, but she had never shown her feelings so openly before. Propping her hands on her hips she let her lips curl into a snarl. "You are acting like a fool," she snorted. "Are we your enemies? If so, say it clearly. Or else cease this shameful behavior."

"What?"

"You are not telling us anything. For two hours you have shown us the 'sights' of the city, which, I must say, are not very interesting at all, and you chatter on about meaningless things!"

Naas Deron frowned at her. "So what do you want to know?"

"I want to know what is going on. What we are facing."

Luke regarded her with some surprise. There was something about her, a new twist to the determination he knew that drove her on relentlessly. As if she were shouldering an invisible burden. Suddenly he realized what it was that was bothering about her. She really thought she had to protect him! As if he needed a bodyguard! And then another thought followed, one he found even more disturbing. 

"While you think on what to tell us, would you excuse us for a moment?" he asked Deron hurriedly and lay a hand on Nuron's right arm, gently guiding her away. 

"What?" she asked, frowning.

"I could ask the same. Nuron, can you tell me what you have been thinking? Acting as some sort of bodyguard for me?"

She gave him a slow smile, one that made him smile in turn. But her words drove it right off his face again. "Luke, you are your father's heir. I will be for you what Chi'in was for him."

"My second-in-command?" Luke asked weakly. This could not be happening! "Nuron, I-" he hesitated. He could not tell her that he did not appreciate her help, could he? No. He sighed. "Thank you."

Nuron beamed at him. "At your service, my lord," she said mockingly and wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer. Her lips closed over his tenderly, and for a while Luke simply cherished the feel of her, sense that precious gift she had made of herself. That feeling never ceased to amaze him. Perhaps her caring for him was not so bad at all, even if the motivation was. 

  
  
  
  


Leia thought she was dying for real when the last few steps came into view. She felt completely drenched in sweat, and her breathing was no more than a ragged hiss. Stumbling up the last flight of stairs, she collapsed on the round stone tiles that made up the small plaza in front of what looked like a temple of some sort. Not a master yet, she thought ruefully, not by far. She propped herself up on her hands and looked around dizzily. The view was truly spectacular, an endless vista of the mountains spread out before her, with the rain-clouds reaching down from the heavens to wrap everything in a white shroud. Leia drew a deep, shuddering breath and rose unsteadily. A wooden railing, almost gone now, had encircled the plaza once, offering small protection against the sheer drop of the mountain cliff. Now a man stood there, a Jedi, she thought, wearing the traditional brown garb she had seen on Belana Jen. 

"Haste makes success almost impossible," he said gently and turned to look at her. His bearded face wore a merry expression, and Leia had the feeling that everything became background next to him. "You need to have faith in yourself, have to set your own pace. Competitiveness is all well, but if you give in to it, you submit to others. You make yourself vulnerable."

"Don't listen to Hagen," Roj Kell said pleasantly as he joined them. He wasn't even breathing hard. The Princess noticed that Belana Jen hung back a bit, but the Jedi Master wore a tiny smile on her lips too. Nodding at the other man, the Sith Lord lowered his head almost deferentially. "His teachings are more dangerous than you can imagine."

"Really?" Leia gave the stranger a warm smile. "I don't think so." She walked closer to the railing, but kept a respectful distance to the abyss. "You mean that by playing only to your own rules you do not give your opponents any chance to attack you, am I right?"

"Yes," he said, "in a sense."

"Some would call that person a tyrant," Leia suggested.

"Only if that person were to fall victim to selfishness. Do not expect thanks or even praise for your work, Princess. Your reward is the well-being of the people."

"Yet one has to make compromises from time to time."

"As long as you consider the consequences, all of them, and know what they will bring for the future, as long as you know what you are doing, you will be safe even then."

Leia found herself looking at Roj Kell. Had he followed that advice? She did not think so. He never made compromises, even if they might appear to be just that. Yet she had never had the feeling that he was being selfish, simply ruthless. She cocked her head to one side, watching the two men more closely. A change in the air by her side announced Belana Jen stepping up to her. The Jedi Master was smiling. 

"They are like two Ralltiir tigers that have been thrown together in one kennel."

"Who is that man?" Leia asked quietly.

"His name is Hagen Dycos. He was possibly the greatest Jedi ever." Belana gave a soft chuckle. "Look at Kell. He would never attack unless provoked, and Hagen knows that very well. They were friends, a long time ago. I don't think Kell had any other before and ever since."

The Princess almost felt her jaw drop. Friends! She would never have thought that the ancient Sith could be friends with _any_body! "How?"

"I believe the word you are looking for is 'humble'. Hagen could make the meanest thug break down in tears and lay his head on the chopping block in the sincere knowledge that he has deserved that sentence."

"That's what he meant about invulnerability, right?"

"Yes. He did not give anyone the opportunity to fault him for anything, because everything he did was _right_."

"Sounds like magic," Leia joked weakly.

"They are both magical creatures, each in his own way," Belana explained fondly. "Your father is very much like them." She turned her head to look down at the shorter woman. "What about you, Princess? Have you thought about the future?"

Leia bit her lower lip in concentration. Then she nodded. "Yes." 

It was clear to her that she would never be as ruthless as her father, or as cold as Roj Kell. On the other hand it seemed close to impossible to achieve what Hagen Dycos had managed, and yet, she believed that his was the true way. It was the path Alderaanian statesmen had followed for centuries, and Alderaan had been respected everywhere all over the galaxy. But the Princess also recognized that she needed more than the power of humility, for in the end Alderaan had been defenseless against Palpatine's evil. What she needed was a warrior's mind and a guardian's heart. Suddenly she smiled. No, what she needed to be was something else. Drawing herself up to her slim height she faced the trio determinedly. Hagen Dycos was beaming at her, his emerald green eyes burning with a warm fire. Leia nodded at him gravely. At the Jedi Master's side Roj Kell wore an expectant scowl on his face, but when Belana Jen joined him he threw her a look that conveyed more love and deep affection than any words could have. The Princess laughed out loud in joy.

"I must thank all three of you," she said and walked over to hug each one of them close. "Thank you for opening my eyes to the true nature of the Force. Balance is achieved by bringing order into chaos, is that not so, Lord Kell?" He nodded at her. "And chaos is the essence of life," she continued. "I will keep that in mind when I return."

Belana Jen arched her eyebrows questioningly. "Do you think you can find the way back on your own?"

"Yes. I am a guide, after all, and I can find my way everywhere."

The Jedi Master nodded at her with a smile. "May the Force be with you, Leia."

"It always is. I know that now."

"One last thing," Roj Kell said suddenly. "A guide is no leader. But sometimes a guide has to take control of events, too. Never forget that you are only restricted by what limits you set yourself. Choose those wisely and stay true to them, until it is time to learn something new."

"I will remember. Thank you again and perhaps, one day, I will see you again." As the mountain faded away she continued to smile, knowing that she would be able to take up the duties her father had left for her to carry. She would not fail the New Republic, that she knew.

  
  
  
  


TBC


	7. Chapter 6 - Trust

****  
  


Chapter 6 - Trust

  
  
  
  


"I did not know you were an artist," Anakin said with a small smile, as he walked into Raisa Tobyn's apartment. But when he threw a closer look at the paintings decorating the walls his eyes widened slightly. "You really are an artist!" Turning his gaze toward her, he arched his brows in astonishment. "Those are amazing."

"Thank you." Raisa brushed past him roughly to hide her embarrassment at his compliments. "They will be here soon."

"How many?"

"Seven so far." She leaned against a tall stool and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure."

Raisa walked over to the small kitchenette in one corner and grabbed something from the cooling unit. 

"I fear it's only beer."

"Beer?"

"Yes. Mildly alcoholic beverage. That okay with you?" She grinned at him and threw him a bottle. 

Anakin snatched it out of the air and smiled. "Not at all. When did you start painting?" he asked, walking along the walls leisurely to study the works in greater detail. They were gloomy, abstract studies, as far as he could tell, and even though he did not recognize much in them he could feel that they touched his soul in some way. They conveyed sensations, and mostly it was sorrow. She did not have to tell him when she had started. He knew. Looking over his shoulder at her he said: "I am sorry."

"What for, your lordship?" she replied coldly. "I thought you had put that behind you." 

Raisa took a long draw from her bottle and threw him a challenging look. The Dark Lord chose to ignore it. He could sense someone approaching and indeed, a few moments later someone knocked at the door. Raisa strode over to check the visitors out. Then she let them in. The first two to enter were a Kubaz and a Devaronian. Nodding at them curtly, Raisa led them into the room. There were no introductions. Both newcomers eyed Anakin up and down in a quite provoking manner, doubt and contempt plain in their stances and their eyes. It was an unsettling feeling. Usually strangers confronted him with fear or outright anger, but not this quiet measuring. 

The Kubaz shuffled over to the cooling unit and took out two bottles of the same beer Raisa had given Anakin. Which reminded him that he had not even tasted it yet. Taking a sip, he savored it slowly. Not bad. The Kubaz inserted its feeding tube into the bottle neck and started drinking. At his side the Devaronian also held his drink close, but his eyes never left the Dark Lord. A very quiet, and above all _unfriendly_ gathering, Anakin thought.

"Where are the others?" he asked at last, just to fill the silence. 

Raisa smiled. "Impatient?"

"A bit, maybe."

There was another knock at the door and this time an entire group of assorted beings strode in. He counted two humans, a man and a woman. The other three were a small Chadra'Fan, a Tordoshan and a Twi'lek. They stared at him the same way the others had. Anakin shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. He hated being scrutinized like that, his motives questioned so openly by naked suspicion.

"He help us?" the Tordoshan rumbled in disbelief. The alien was a head taller than the Dark Lord, and thick muscles rippled underneath his coarse brown fur as he moved across the room. 

Anakin frowned slightly. "I hope no one followed you?" They gave a negative. "Good. I assume you prefer to remain standing, so I will get right to the point. Raisa has told you a bit of why you are here tonight, I guess," Anakin continued. This was not his turf. He was no speaker. "I will tell you a bit more. First, a selfish reason. I need new agents, agents the government knows nothing about. Why that secrecy? You know why. They are watching me very closely, and they don't trust me. You do not trust me either, I know. Yet. I hope I can change that in time. The second reason is this: you are all lost, without a purpose, without any support. I want to help you, and others like you."

"How do we know you are sincere? We know who you are," the Devaronian sneered. "I should kill you were you stand."

Anakin straightened to his full height. "Go ahead then." The alien did not stir. "Afraid? No, I don't think so. I believe you are curious. You are desperate. Well, so am I." He spread his arms in a soothing gesture. "So, perhaps now would be the time to get to know each other a bit better. You," he pointed at the Kubaz, who jumped, startled. "What is your name?"

Over the next hours they talked, just that, and in the end they all knew that they were committed to the cause the Dark Lord had outlined for them. Now he could finally make his move.

  
  
  
  


On Nal Hutta Han Solo and Lando Calrissian were both feeling ill at ease as they followed the bounty-hunter deeper into the Hutt's fortress. A Twi'lek had joined them, and the alien was watching them suspiciously out of the corner of his eyes. Han had his right hand hovering over his blaster, and he noticed Lando doing the same. He did not like this place. It reeked of Hutt slime. Indeed, rounding a corner they entered another hallway that led up to a huge chamber. At the far end a raised dais had been erected and on it lounged the dark form of a full-grown Hutt. Joral.

"Ah, the infamous Han Solo!" the huge alien boomed in greeting. "I am told you have something for me!"

"Sure," Han growled softly. "The credits." The exchange went pretty fast, and Han felt only slightly guilty over spending his in-laws' money. But hey, Anakin had allowed him to use any of his assets, hadn't he? "Is that all then?"

"Yes, Han Solo, we are even," Joral answered smoothly. "But there is something else."

Han tensed. "What?"

"A job."

"You must be kidding."

"Rest assured that I am serious. You served Jabba well, I hear. Most of the time, at least."

"What do you want?"

"Something you might benefit from too."

"Really?" Subtly shifting his weight, the Corellian tried to keep an eye on the bounty-hunter, the Hutt, the Twi'lek and the shadows writhing in the corners. "And what is that?"

"There is a woman, her name is Yana Dar. I want you to track her for me."

"Yana Dar?"

"Yes. She is on Yaga Minor right now. You will go there."

"I will? Why should I?"

"Because I say so."

"Not very convincing." Han drew himself up to his full height, and scanned their surroundings again. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a movement by the door and turned his head quickly, just in time to see Abla Othana retreat into the hallway outside. What was that man doing here?

"You see something you do not like, Han Solo?" Joral asked in a dangerous hiss.

"Actually yes," the Corellian replied. "Why don't you have Othana do your spy work, if he is working for you?"

"Because Yana Dar knows him."

Han swallowed slowly. "We will never be able to get as close to her as he can."

"She is expecting you, Han Solo."

"What?"

"Have you checked the data Abla has uncovered for you?"

Han patted his pockets quickly. "Er, no. Why?"

"Do it. Now." Joral beckoned him closer. Now Han could make out a holorecorder that had been installed into the dais the Hutt rested on. Walking closer cautiously he nodded at Lando, who looked very tense, and held his right hand hovering over his blaster. Behind the baron Boba Fett was standing seemingly at ease, but Han bet that the bounty-hunter would know Lando's move before he even thought of making it. The Corellian threw the Hutt a suspicious glance before he inserted the datacard into the appropriate slot. Almost immediately the screen lit up with information. He frowned at it. This could not be!

"Yana was behind this?" he felt his jaw drop. "She is behind Leia's kidnapping? But this makes no sense!"

"Othana!" Joral called out in a booming voice. "Come here!"

The slicer sauntered into the room nonchalantly and threw Lando an amused smile that the baron requited with a grim frown. "What?"

"Tell Han Solo here why Yana kidnapped the Princess, will you?"

"Sure. The Empire, Solo. It is still very much alive, as you know. The Princess is a powerful bargaining chip when it comes to dealing with the Imps."

Han frowned at the man. What deal could Yana be planning with the Imperial remnant? Aloud he asked: "What has that got to do with me?"

Joral answered instead of the slicer. "You could be a hero, Han Solo."

"A hero? I do not want to be a hero! I want Leia back!"

"And you shall have her, Han Solo. Go to Yaga Minor. Yana Dar is with a woman named Roganda Ismaren. This Roganda has a scientist with her. I want the scientist."

"You want us to kidnap him?"

"Bring him here, to Nal Hutta."

"What's in it for me?"

"The Princess."

Han frowned suspiciously. "How come I don't believe you?"

"I do not have the faintest idea, Han Solo. The man's name is Nasdra Magrody."

"Magrody!"

"And to ensure that you will do as I say," Joral said pleasantly, "I am sending Master Fett with you."

"What?" Whirling around the Corellian stared at the bounty-hunter gape-mouthed. Lando looked sick. The Corellian turned back to frown at the Hutt: "You want us to spy on Yana Dar and kidnap Magrody while she isn't watching? What kind of mission is that?"

"The one that will save your Princess, Solo."

That was, of course, a very good argument. "Do I get an insurance that you'll stay true to your word?" Han tried, but he already knew that he was caught. If he could get this to Skywalker... Unfortunately he suspected that Fett would keep a sharp eye on them. 

"My word has to suffice, Han Solo," Joral replied gravely. 

"Yeah, great," Han mumbled sullenly and gave Lando a grim look. To his surprise the baron was nodding vigorously. "It is a deal," the former smuggler grated out at last, not quite meeting Joral's gaze.

"Excellent!" the Hutt boomed and clapped his tiny hands childishly. "I suggest you leave at once. Yana Dar has a three-day lead on you."

"Thanks so much for the info. Lando, let's go. I suppose Mister Fett here doesn't need an invitation." Stalking past the bounty-hunter, Han clenched his hands into tight fists. How he _hated_ being pushed around! Behind him he heard Boba Fett say:

"I have a feeling that we will make a great team, Solo."

Yeah, _that_ feeling he had too. Ha ha.

  
  
  
  


Once the smuggler and the baron were gone, Abla turned back to face the Hutt. Joral was staring into the distance pensively, but when the slicer moved toward him his eyes focused on Othana lightning quick. 

"Fool!" the Hutt hissed viciously. "You almost ruined everything."

Abla shrugged easily. "I don't think so. Solo had no choice, really. A nice twist, sending Fett with them." And using Yana's idea for your own ends, he added silently to himself.

"I do not like taking risks, Abla Othana. Take care that you do not become one, or else I might have to eliminate you."

"Don't you think my boss would object?"

"Yana Dar can find herself another pretty, and your _other_ boss another agent."

Abla snorted softly. "I am the best slicer there is, Joral, and you profit from my skills as much as Yana and the Grand Admiral."

"For how long? Once he has the program, he won't need you any longer."

"That I doubt very much." Abla frowned at the Hutt suspiciously. "And what do _you_ know of that project?"

"I know more than you realize, my friend." On the comm console a green light began blinking urgently. "Your boss seems to have a knack for finding the most inopportune moments to call," Joral announced sourly. He activated the receiver and a life-size hologram appeared in front of the dais. Abla found himself saluting automatically when the Grand Admiral's cool gaze fell on him.

"I had not expected you to be here at this point of time," the Admiral said, a cutting edge in his already hard voice. Tious Markhan had been one of the Republic's brightest generals before the Emperor had made him Grand Admiral. Stocky of build and with dark gray hair, he had as commanding a presence as any of the strategists the Emperor had employed in his service.

"At your service, sir, as always," the slicer replied coolly.

"What news, Joral?" Markhan asked, ignoring his agent for the time being. The Hutt gave a startled grunt as the Grand Admiral addressed him so suddenly. 

"Good news, esteemed Grand Admiral," he replied hastily. "I have found Nasdra Magrody."

Abla suppressed an annoyed hiss. If the Hutt continued claiming Yana's exploits as his own, he would learn that Tious Markhan did not think very highly of deceiving liars. 

"Good news indeed," The Grand Admiral said. "When will you be able to acquire him?"

"I have sent Han Solo to Yaga Minor on exactly that mission."

"Han Solo!" Once his initial surprise had faded, Markhan smiled slowly. "Very good. The Princess?"

"Safe with Roganda Ismaren," Abla put in calmly. 

"So, everything is in place. But we do not know yet what Ismaren is planning, do we?"

"No, sir. Joral had the idea of having Solo spy on Yana. He's bound to find out something."

"Perhaps. But I would not rely on that. We need another source. Suggestions?"

"Lord Andorwyn," Abla mused. "He is more ambitious and ruthless than the rest. Promise him power and he will tell you everything Ismaren will reveal at that meeting on Yaga Minor."

The Grand Admiral did not seem to listen. "The boy is with her?"

"As far as we know, yes."

"Good. Joral, how is your business on Ryloth proceeding?"

"Very well, sir. I have established contact with the ruling Council of Five. They will not trouble us."

"Understandable. But?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you listen to rumors, Joral? They whisper that the Twi'lek plan rebellion. That they want to leave your protectorate and join the New Republic." Tious Markhan raised his eyebrows questioningly at the Hutt. "So? What do you say?"

"I have heard those rumors."

"And you have kept them hidden from me. Why?"

"It did not seem proper to bore you with local gossip."

"Hardly local, my friend. Everyone knows, by now. I hear that the New Republic has a sharp eye on you. You will increase your efforts in uncovering the instigators of this rumor and verify its truthfulness. If there really are rebels... You will keep me posted, is that clear? But first, Andorwyn. Abla, where is his lordship right now?"

"Probably on Yaga Minor already. I can find out for you."

"Don't bother. I expect a report on the program soon, Abla. A _progress_ report."

"Yes, sir." Abla hesitated, then said: "Anderland is dead, sir."

"Dead? How so?"

"He was spying on us when we had that little conversation a few days back. So I eliminated him."

"Will his demise present a set-back in regards to the program? Will it cause problems with Yana Dar?"

"No."

"Then why do you bring it up? Once we have Magrody, you will move out of Nar Shadaa anyway, and Yana Dar won't be your responsibility any longer. Gentlemen, I bid you farewell."

The image flickered out. Staring at the spot where it had vanished Abla was lost in thought. He knew that Markhan had to handle a load of strings, and apparently not everything was in place yet. On the other hand the Grand Admiral did not tell him everything either. A shame, really. 

Looking up suddenly he fixed Joral in a cold stare. 

"What was that about the Twi'lek?"

  
  
  
  


Belana was astounded at the simplicity of the plan. It did not seem like Kell at all. They were seated side by side on the very border to the day side of Ryloth, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Kell's gaze was fixed straight ahead, and a smile made his sharp features seem almost soft. Reaching out to him, Belana ran a hand over his forehead tenderly. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes with a low sigh.

"It is a good plan, though," he said softly.

"Yes, I agree. _If_ they are ready to break custom."

"Custom is not as strong as history, Belana. Once the ruling Council loses its power, all members are exiled, and their clan is shamed by their exile into the day zone. They all lose part of their standing in society. That is customary and accepted. But what Haman is planning... He does not belong to the ruling clan, and he wants to use the Hutts to gain personal power. This is breaking custom, Belana. If I can convince the exiled Councilors to cooperate with me, they will be heroes. How could they decline such an offer? They will be the saviors of custom and tradition, and at the same time they bring freedom to their people."

"But can you keep it secret?"

"That is the advantage of being exiled. No one gives a damn about what you are doing out there."

"Do you believe Lord Skywalker thinks the same?

"I am almost certain. He won't sit still and let the New Republic run toward certain doom, though."

"And the Grand Admiral?"

Opening his clear green eyes, he met her gaze calmly. "You saw. You know what he is facing."

"So it is up to us and the Princess."

"Possibly. I do not pretend to be a strategist."

Belana smiled down at him fondly. "That's what I like in you. Either you are totally fanatic or else more modest than a Trall virgin." He burst out laughing and she fell in with his mirth easily. 

"Gods, Belana! I never knew!" Chuckling softly, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her closer. "It is so good to be back with you. You make me feel at ease."

"And you make me feel all wound-up. It is crazy, really." She hesitated, suddenly pensive. "What about the other thing?"

He shrugged. "I did what I could to scare them off and warn the New Republic and the Chiss at the same time. They'll be back soon, though, and there are dangers lurking in the midst of the New Republic, too."

"What dangers?"

"The Empire brought so-called civilization to peoples who cannot cope with it. They feel restrained by the rules, they want to be left alone with their own culture, and they will defend their territory against any intrusion."

"Just like you, hm?"

"Yes, just like me. My mother knew exactly why she did not want civilization to conquer her people. You have seen how it changed me, and how I used it."

"What can we do about them?"

"I will do nothing, and the New Republic will have to decide if they can discard their own ideals so soon."

"What?" Belana broke his embrace and sat up. "What do you mean?"

"They promote an alliance of free cultures, but they also promote peace and independence. Should a danger arise from within, a danger that has to be contained, they will inevitably turn into oppressors. Can they simply tolerate another civilization, one that does not fit their image of a perfect galaxy? Or do they destroy it, for the greater good of the majority? They have to be very strong now. If they lose that strength, their dreams will be shattered and they will lose their allies. As long as their enemies are strong, they will be hard pressed to keep the high moral ground." He threw her a quick smile. "Luckily they have some allies that know that one has to stay true to oneself."

"Thrawn. And Chi'in."

"Yes. Thrawn is smart enough not to interfere with the New Republic, and Chi'in knows how to move unseen. He will not let the New Republic perish."

"Do you know what he is planning?"

"No. But he will not let them fall. Karrde will keep both informed about what is happening and I suspect that Thrawn has his own sources, too."

"That leaves their opponents. The Empire, for one."

"Yes. Unfortunately I have no idea what they are planning. It will be interesting to find out, no doubt."

  
  
  
  


Reclining in his high-backed chair, Tious Markhan steepled his fingers in front of his face and smiled at Anto Andorwyn pleasantly. Andowryn was Kuat nobility, a sleek, fair-skinned human of indeterminable age. His cool eyes met theGrand Admiral's gaze unafraid, but Tious could see the greed lurking in their depth. Greed and ambition. 

"So, when Roganda Ismaren arrives at Yaga Minor tomorrow, you will keep an eye on everything she does. You have someone trustworthy, I hope?"

"Of course, Grand Admiral. Rest assured that nothing will escape my eyes and ears."

"I am pleased to hear that, my lord. Now, let me not detain you. I am certain that you have a lot to prepare for her arrival."

"Certainly."

Deactivating the comm, the Grand Admiral looked up, beyond the screen, where his aide, Lieutenant Franzis Sarreti, stood at rigid attention. "Interesting, don't you think?"

Sarreti nodded slowly. "Yes, sir, but it will be even more interesting to find out what exactly Ismaren is planning."

"She wants her son to take his father's place, of course." Tious clicked his tongue in delight. "But I fear he has grown out of her control already."

"Which would be no surprise."

"Indeed." 

Rising abruptly Markhan crossed his hands on his back and walked over to the viewport that gave a spectacular view of the red glow that surrounded the desolate planet that was Byss. When he had moved his headquarters here, it had been for one specific reason: information. Abla Othana had cracked the codes of the files he himself had had no access to, even as Grand Admiral, and those files had given him knowledge that could be put to good use now. Information about the late Emperor's most secret ambitions, his pet projects, his plans for the future. As self-appointed guardian of that precious information Tious Markhan was determined to build a new empire, a worthy legacy to the one that had almost perished in the previous war. Only almost, though. 

They had the resources to crush the New Republic with ease, but that was not the way to go about this. He had to move carefully, had to dismantle the new government bit by bit, take the people's confidence from their leaders, mire them in bleak despair. Tious Markhan was not Force-sensitive, but he had understood the Dark Side well enough, and he would succeed were Palpatine had failed. That was the project he had Abla Othana working on. 

Upon their arrival on Byss his foray parties had found some very interesting facilities, and one in particular had intrigued him. Those laboratories featured the technology of an alien species Markhan himself had been sent to scout out years ago, on the Emperor's orders. The Ssi-ruuk, as they called themselves, where a reptilian species that used the life energy of sentient beings as source of energy. Their technology allowed them to transfer a living consciousness into a machine and make it power that machine. The Emperor had shown great interest in that technology and he had outlined a deal with the Ssi-ruuk that would have given him access to their knowledge, but they had seen through his plan. In one of the last skirmishes with their fleet, before he had been able to contain the threat, Markhan had been able to capture one of their cruisers. Palpatine had had his scientists work on the on-board technology and apparently he had found some uses for it. The no-longer secret log files of the specific laboratory spoke of those very clearly. 

A consciousness transferred from a living host into a machine could be enslaved and controlled through that technology, and apparently Palpatine had sought to try exactly that on someone called Roj Kell. Further research had yielded part of the man's history: he had been Palpatine's teacher, a Sith Lord himself, with little Force-sensitivity, but with a mind that harbored more knowledge than any computer system could possibly process. To control that mind had been the Emperor's goal. He had failed though, and the only thing his scientists had managed was to flash-print Kell's memory. Palpatine had put a select team of computer experts to the task of developing an encrypt/decrypt program to handle that chaos of information. 

But his plan apparently had been implemented even earlier, with a genetic experiment that had resulted in the birth of Irek Ismaren. The boy was a combination of Palpatine's considerable strength in the Force with the exceptional mental abilities of his former teacher. Had Palpatine lived long enough, his mind would have controlled the boy, with Roj Kell's knowledge at his fingertips. A daring plan. Now Tious had to find out exactly what Roganda had planned for her son. Did she only want him to become a figurehead or did she have higher goals for him? A tricky question.

"What is a tricky question, sir?" Lieutenant Sarreti asked quietly.

Only then did Tious realize that he had spoken his last thought aloud. "Ismaren's plans," he explained softly.

"But she is not really a danger, is she? You could apprehend her on Yaga Minor easily, sir. I doubt that her 'allies' would come to her aid."

"Too simple, Sarreti. She is no fool. No, we will wait for Lord Andorwyn's report. Then we will decide what to do about her."

"Yes, sir." Sarreti hesitated. "Sir, what about the agents Yana Dar has sent to Byss?"

"What? Oh, yes. Those. Wrenga Jixton and Mara Jade." The Grand Admiral gave a annoyed grunt.

"I have had the guard increased and the holocron moved to another location. When they turn up, the guards have orders to eliminate them. They won't be a problem."

"As you say, sir." 

  
  
  
  


Yana sat up when the Princess stirred on her bunk. The information broker had guarded the prisoner's unnatural sleep for the past three hours, sensing that a change was about to happen. Smiling to herself, Yana rose and walked over to Leia's recumbent form. The Princess' eyelids fluttered open and her dark brown eyes met Yana's blue ones calmly. 

"I heard your call," Leia explained softly, making Yana's heart skip a beat.

"You did?"

"Yes." 

"You will not betray me, will you?"

"Not if you tell me a bit more about Irek Ismaren."

Yana sat down on the edge of the bed elegantly. "I should have known you would ask that particular question." Heaving a sigh she said: "I suppose it does not matter any longer. It is not as if you could prevent Roganda's plans from unfolding."

"What plans?"

"It is quite shrewd, actually, but risky. You obviously know what Irek is capable of."

"Yes."

"Well, Roganda has two goals. One: to discredit the New Republic government. Second: to bring the Imperial remnant on her side."

"How?" The Princess has regained some of her strength and sat up on the bunk weakly. Her eyes though were full of quiet power.

"Irek will take control of the Executor and attack the New Republic. They will believe that Grand Admiral Thrawn has betrayed them at last and your friends on Coruscant will shun the ex-Imperial commanders, who will want to join Thrawn again. At the same time Roganda can prove to the surviving courtiers and the military commanders that she has the means to defeat the New Republic easily, if they assist a little bit. You she wanted to bring the New Republic on her side." 

"So she wants her son to become Emperor. I knew it!"

"A figurehead. She underestimates him though. His move against you shows me that he has different plans. If I could just find out what those are!" Thumping the bunk with her fist, Yana growled softly with impatience.

The Princess moved closer, a smile on her face. "Yana, I believe you would not appreciate Roganda's plan to succeed, am I right? What is it _you_ plan?"

"You truly are your father's daughter," Yana laughed. "But that plan is not for you to know yet. Too much is at stake for me." She rose abruptly, looking down at the Princess. "Still, I think you and I can work together. Perhaps." It was a question, they both knew, and Leia nodded at last. 

"I think so, too," she said softly. Then, cocking her head to one side as if listening to something far off, the Princess nodded to herself. "We are almost there." Then she gazed up at Yana again. "You will visit me again?"

"Of course." Extending her hand on impulse Yana waited for the Princes to grasp it. "A pact, Princess. 

You help me, and I will assist you in turn."

The Princess smiled. "Call me Leia. Please."

  
  
  
  


"She's back!"

Padmé gasped in shock, woken by Anakin's joyous shout from restless slumber filled with nightmares.

"What?" she asked, her head clearing up gradually.

"Leia! She's back! She is all right, I think." He laughed out loud. "I guess Chi'in was right after all." 

Her muscles sagging with utter relief, Padmé buried her face in the pillows, a huge smile creeping onto her lips. She wanted to suffocate with the joy she felt at this good news, but strong arms pulled her into her husband's embrace. 

"Isn't this great?" he whispered softly. Padmé could not answer. Leia was all right! Suddenly tears were falling from her eyes. Anakin wiped them away gently and kissed her left cheek. "I told you she would pull through, didn't I?"

"You were worried too, admit it," Padmé growled.

"Okay, yes, so I was worried nearly to death," he replied with a chuckle, then hugged her closer, his embrace almost crushing her. "Sorry," he muttered at her muffled protests and relaxed his grip a fraction. "I am just so relieved."

"I understand." Twisting around in his arms, she kissed him deeply, wanting to share her joy with him. He answered her kisses just as passionately, and Padmé felt like laughing again. "Anakin," she said, taking a badly needed breath. "I love you."

"I love you too, Padmé. Always and forever."

"Then you will tell me where you sent Raisa?"

He froze. "You-!" he began, sounding outraged, but he subsided immediately when she began caressing his shoulders tenderly. Padmé thoughts he could hear him mumble something that sounded like 'Piett'. 

"Chandrila?" she whispered in surprise. "Why there?"

"Piett needs a bodyguard, I think, and she can keep an eye on his activities for me."

"Uh, you are so bad, Anakin! You are lucky that I would never tell Mon Mothma what exactly you are doing with your free time."

"Hm," he mused aloud, "I dearly hope so. Else I'd have to take serious steps to ensure that you keep those things to yourself."

"Is that so?" she challenged him with some amusement. "Steps such as?" Instead of answering he sealed her lips close with his, and Padmé forgot all about teasing him. 

  
  
  
  


The Wilde Karrde was docked securely at one of the many ports of Ord Mantell and Talon Karrde had ordered his crew to stay aboard, in case they needed to leave again quickly. Now he and Aves were alone on the bridge, and Aves had tried to establish contact to the Executor. Three attempts so far, and twice they had gotten a very startled Cronn on the line, who had managed to tell them that Thrawn was at the base right now before they had lost the transmission the last time in a hailstorm of static. Talon Karrde was worried. What was going on out there? 

"Got it!" Aves announced triumphantly and suddenly they had a clear view of the Grand Admiral. The blue-skinned alien nodded at Karrde in acknowledgement.

"Mister Karrde, what can I do for you?"

"You got the information I sent from Ryloth?"

"Yes. Very interesting news. Lord Skywalker said you were to meet me at Niaruan."

"Yes, he did, and I am on my way. Have you changed your mind?"

"Something urgent has turned up quite unexpectedly and I need to investigate that first. I would appreciate it though if you could stay in contact with the base and keep me abreast of anything that 

is going on in the New Republic."

Karrde smiled in understanding. "I assume I know what you are referring to. As for the Ryloth business, I would value your input."

"I cannot tell you much. You know the historical facts, you know the actual ones. If I knew what he is planning I would still stay here. Nevertheless, he is right in one thing: do not involve the New Republic."

"Why? Can you give me a reason?" Karrde asked cautiously.

The Chiss admiral shook his head. "Not on this channel, Karrde. Either you come here or you must find out yourself." He glared at something off the screen and nodded to himself with a tiny smile. "I would advise you though to stay in Imperial space for the time being. Try to uncover what is going on there." 

So he had been checking where the transmission was coming from. "What is in it for me?"

"Always the businessman," Thrawn said with a smile. "You will be recompensed, of course. As soon as you have something useful for me."

Talon Karrde suppressed a sigh. He should have known that Thrawn would not agree to any deal at this point of time. "I will do my best, as always." The call disconnected and the information broker leaned back in his seat tiredly. "Aves," he said. "Have you been able to confirm the rumor about Yana Dar being on Yaga Minor?"

"Yes, boss. She's arrived just today, apparently."

"All right. Call the crew. We are leaving for Yaga Minor."

  
  
  
  


Grand Admiral Thrawn left the comm chamber briskly. Outside Voss Parck fell in step with him easily. The two men walked side by side toward the admiral's office. He was not certain if Karrde knew about the trouble Anakin Skywalker was in, or if he was aware of Mon Mothma's new stance on her former allies. It was not something he would tell the broker over an insecure channel, and he really had other things to worry about. Ever since they had returned to Niaruan the Executor was experiencing a series of tiny malfunctions, like the communication silence just today. The Super Star Destroyer was a fearsome weapon, but also vulnerable. In his obsession to control everything Palpatine had ordered the technicians to install a remote control unit into the ship that would allow someone who knew the proper codes to take over control of the ship. That was a very worrying thought. 

Cronn was conducting a thorough research and he had the technicians jumping all around the ship. The Falleen was frantically trying to find the source of the trouble, and he had reported another disturbance in the Force. Was there a connection, maybe? 

Cronn had claimed that no Jedi had ever been able to actually influence the control chips of machines. Nevertheless the Grand Admiral was considering standing the Super Star Destroyer down. It came at an unfortunate time, especially with the strange happenings out in Wild Space. Yet he would rather risk facing overwhelming odds than have a malfunctioning flagship. The problem was that he had no docks that could handle a ship that size, or else he'd have an entire team search the Executor top to bottom. Perhaps Kuat would be susceptible to a request. He winced inwardly. If he brought the SSD into New Republic space, an awful lot of people would start asking questions. 

"What could you make of the reports, sir?" Voss Parck interrupted his thoughts suddenly.

"Which reports do you mean?" Thrawn punched the codes into the lock to his office and the door slid open noiselessly. Parck followed him in.

"The ones Lord Skywalker sent, about the activities of the former courtiers."

"Ah, those reports. Well, I could make an educated guess as to where Andorwyn sent his money. It is no secret that Zsinj controls the sector around Yaga Minor. Fortunately for us Talon Karrde is in the area. If Andorwyn throws in his lot with the warlords, we can assume that Skywalker was right. The others won't want to stay behind. What I want to know though is what Chi'in is planning. Have you tried to raise the Ardana Ver again?"

"Yes. They don't answer, but the ship has been put on the hot list with our troops. On Syndic Bal'maw'narda's orders."

"So he's been to Almashin." The Grand Admiral's eyes narrowed a fraction. Why had the Noghri chosen to go now? "I want Puket to send a message to Skywalker. Tell him that he should keep a close eye on Mon Mothma, and his wife is to urge the Senate to take steps toward the Imperial remnant."

"The blunt approach, eh?"

"They are wedged between us and the New Republic, and that is not healthy in the long run. I do not want an enemy on my doorstep when we already have one at our back door." 

"True," Parck breathed. "I suggest we approach the Imperial remnant, too."

"No. If Mon Mothma learns of that she will take it as a direct affront. And you and I both know that there is enough ambition in the military command to satisfy two of Palpatine's sort."

"Well put, sir," the admiral said with a smile. "So what are we going to do?"

"You will give Cronn any assistance he needs, and try to track down Chi'in. I suppose I will resume my studies of the Kuati and the Sith. Was there anything else?"

"No. Except-" Voss Parck hesitated, prompting Thrawn to glare at him impatiently. 

"What is it?"

"My friend, we are losing this battle," the admiral said quietly. "All we can do is plug the holes, but this ship will sink sooner or later."

Thrawn exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "I know. I wish I didn't, but I know."

  
  
  
  


Padmé was seated in her office, working on yet another report on the new senators, and wished that Piett would call to give her an update on his mission. To her own shame she was getting thoroughly bored with all the paper work, but she remembered well how necessary it was that she did it herself. Unfortunately no one could take that responsibility from her. 

"Anja!" she called her secretary. The woman appeared in the doorway instantly. 

"Yes?"

"Would you please fetch me the latest reports on Corellia? And what we have on Yaga Minor."

"At once."

Padmé leaned back in her chair once Anja had left again, massaging her shoulders with a sigh. Looking toward the viewport she smiled. Anakin had promised to take her out tonight, and she was anxious to see what he had planned for them. 

When she noticed the reflection of a movement by the door she turned around quickly, and frowned.

"General Page, what a surprise. Can I help you?"

He nodded gravely and closed the door behind him. "I hope you can enlighten me on a few things I have found here. Your husband does not seem to be at home." It was a question, she realized, and not a friendly one.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as he handed her two datacards. 

"That is what I am trying to find out. There have been considerable transfers from your private account, to a man called Abla Othana. He is a known slicer, based in Hutt territory. Apart from that we intercepted this transmission. From Niaruan."

Padmé stared at the message. It was Puket's report on what Karrde had uncovered on Ryloth. Feeling all color drain from her face she looked up quickly to meet Page's eyes. He gazed at her impassively, and she knew that he had already drawn his conclucions. "What do you make of this?" she asked nevertheless.

"What I make of this is that a civilian is handling sensitive government material in a quite irresponsible manner. Mon Mothma has issued an arrest warrant for your husband, by the way. Needless to say that, if you are involved in this too, if you knew of his activities, you are as guilty as he is."

Padmé's mouth twisted in a glum grimace. "Is there any chance to speak to Mon Mothma first?"

"Sure." He gave her a curt nod. "Make an appointment." With that he turned around and left without another word. 

Left behind Padmé felt stunned by this piece of news. It was true that Anakin had crossed the line by quite a bit, but this ... The explanation was so easy! Han had used their account to pay off a slicer, Othana, to uncover information. There was no crime in that, was there? As for keeping information secret ... Puket was not answerable to the New Republic. Yes, it sounded easy, but only on the surface. There was much more behind this. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the door and nodded at Anja. "Make an appointment for me with the President, all right?"

"Yes. What about the reports you requested?"

"I'll have a look while I am waiting."

Anja nodded and made a call to Mon Mothma's office. "Madam?" In the process of returning to her own office Padmé looked back over her shoulder questioningly. "Madam, she will see you now."

"Good. Thank you, Anja. Just leave the reports on my desk, all right?" She was not even sure if she would still have her job after that little talk with Mon Mothma, but Padmé was too wound-up to put much thought to that. She needed to clear this up and fast.

Padmé hurried along the hallways briskly, not heeding the greetings and queries following in her wake. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with reasonable arguments, but she had to wait what Mon Mothma had to say first. 

The President was waiting for her. She looked up from her desk when Padmé entered, and she did not look friendly at all. Telmann Page was standing next to her, his hands folded on his back.

"Sit down, please," she began curtly. Padmé did as told and waited. "General Page informed you?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Then perhaps you would care to tell me what this is all about?"

"Certainly." Padmé ordered herself to be calm and raised her chin haughtily. "As you are well aware of, my daughter has been kidnapped. Han Solo has left Corellia to track her down, and of course we assured him any financial support he might need. This included paying off a slicer to investigate on Corellia."

Mon Mothma interrupted her. "While I am indeed aware of the facts, I would also want to remind you that slicing into official port files is in itself is a criminal act. I cannot have my Senior Analyst sanction that kind of thing. A reprimand will be unavoidable. As for Solo's choice ... General Page, would you take this, please?"

"Certainly, Madam President." He gave Padmé a pensive glance, seemed to hesitate, then walked around the desk, drawing her eyes on him. "When your husband came to me to start an investigation into the Minister's disappearance, I had my own people contact Coronet port authorities. They were very cooperative."

"Are you certain? They could have given you false information," Padmé injected quickly. He smiled at her. 

"True, but they did not. The information was verified and pointed us toward Nar Shadaa. The name Abla Othana came up in our research too. I had my people trace his history."

"And?"

"Here is an interesting fact. Abla Othana, according to my knowledge, worked for Tious Markhan last."

Padmé shrugged. She knew that Telmann Page had deserted the Empire to join the Alliance, so he was bound to know more than the average Intelligence agent. "So? As far as I recall Markhan was a general in the Clone Wars, a very good one."

"Yes. He was so good, in fact, that Palpatine made him a Grand Admiral later on." 

She gasped aloud. "What?"

"Ah, so you did not know. Good. Your husband though undoubtedly did. A coincidence that Han Solo stumbled across Othana? I don't think so."

"I do not know if it was or not," she told him icily. "And I would appreciate it if you kept your accusations to yourselves until my husband can clarify this. I am sure that all his activities were in your best interest."

"That may be as it is, Padmé," Mon Mothma explained calmly, "but your husband has neither the authority nor the permission to conduct such an investigation on his own. He should have informed General Page."

"You yourself said you did not want him to interfere!" Padmé hissed.

"That did not mean that he was suddenly allowed to run his own schemes behind my back. That I do not appreciate at all. And this," she patted the datacard lying on the desk in front of her. "I assume that he has been exchanging information with Niaruan over the past weeks?" Padmé shrugged again. The President nodded gently. "There have been some minor differences between the New Republic and the Grand Admiral of late. I dearly hope that your husband is not involved in that too. General Page has set his best people on Abla Othana, and they have just today come back with disturbing news. Han Solo and a man we identified as Lando Calrissian, a con-man, to our knowledge, left Nar Shadaa for Yaga Minor, after reportedly meeting with Joral and Othana."

"They must be after Leia," Padmé explained weakly, but she was not sure herself any more if Anakin had told her everything. "It must be that."

"I wish it was. We shall see once Lord Skywalker returns." Mon Mothma gave her a pointed look. "If he returns."

"How can you say that!" Bounding to her feet in outrage Padmé propped her hands on her hips furiously. "How dare you? He is doing everything he can to help you, and everything to assist Han Solo in recovering our daughter!"

Telmann Page arched his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you so certain of that?"

  
  
  
  


Loya, the Devaronian, was in a foul mood. He always was, as far as Anakin had been able to determine. The two of them were stalking along the bleak hallway of one of Coruscant's nastier apartment complexes. Loya wore a sneer that purveyed nothing good for the spy they were hoping to find here. The Devaronian had uncovered and tracked Yana Dar's contacts in Imperial City over the past days, and finally he had been able to isolate one of them. Anakin was very anxious to find out about that mysterious information broker who dared operate right under the Hutt's noses and who knew about the holocrons in Palpatine's treasury on Byss. Byss! A dark world, very dark. Although Anakin had faith in Jix and Mara he wished they would be more careful than they usually were. 

Come to think of it, he should not have let them go, had he himself not been interested in what holocron that one might be. He knew without a doubt that it would be a Jedi holocron, accessible only to a Force-user. Was Yana Dar Force-sensitive? Jix had not mentioned any such thing, but then, the Dark Lord had cut his report awfully short. Damn! Leia's disappearance had made him skittish and nervy, not a good thing right now. 

Back to the holocron. With what news Karrde had uncovered on Ryloth, Anakin had a nasty feeling that the one and only Force-user in the closer vicinity of Nar Shadaa was Roj Kell. Yana Dar would make the perfect target for him, with her organization dabbling in the flow of information that crisscrossed the galaxy with data streams. But what could he want from Byss? What could the holocron contain that Roj Kell did not know? 

Anakin frowned. He was going about this the wrong way. What was in the holocron that Kell knew and did not want others to see? Perhaps they could find out, once Jix and Mara returned from their mission. They would deliver the holocron here, not to Nar Shadaa, that was for certain. Another thought resurfaced: Again, what if Yana Dar herself was Force-sensitive? 

It all boiled down to finding the holocron, didn't it? Anakin suppressed a sigh. He hated being stuck in one place.

"Here it is," Loya said suddenly and pointed a thumb at a shabby-looking door. "Anyone in?"

The Dark Lord nodded. "Two beings, one human. The other-" His eyes widened ever so slightly. A Noghri! Here? "Stand back," he ordered the Devaronian coolly. 

The alien might be a tough street-fighter, but a Noghri assassin would still finish him within a heart-beat and without breaking a sweat. A flick of the Force blew the door out of its frame. Striding into the room beyond Anakin wrapped the Noghri in flows of air and noticed with some satisfaction that the human had already frozen with shock when the door had been opened so suddenly and violently. Loya darted past the Dark Lord and snatched the assorted weapons from their owners. A set of knives and two blasters from the Noghri, and another blaster from the human.

Anakin dismissed the human for now and concentrated on the captured alien instead. He walked up to the warrior calmly and nodded at him before he extended a hand toward the other. The Noghri blinked large, black eyes at him in surprise. "You know me," the Dark Lord explained quietly. "What is your name?"

"Andarack clan Rim'kai." The warrior frowned ever so slightly, then moved his head toward Anakin's still extended hand. He sniffed his palm delicately, then drew a hissed breath. "You!" Releasing Andarack, the Dark Lord took a step back. He was from the same clan as Chi'in. A coincidence? The Noghri dropped to his knees reverentially and pressed his face against the floor, arms outstretched at his sides. "I serve you, my lord," he said hoarsely.

"Rise, please. What are you doing here? The Grand Admiral has abandoned your people?" Thrawn had been given responsibility for the Noghri when the Dark Lord had been too busy with containing the growing rebellion. Even though he knew that Thrawn had never cared much for the Noghri, he would have thought that Chi'in at least would put a word in for his people with the Chiss. Andarack looked up at him calmly.

"No," the warrior replied. "We have not seen Grand Admiral Thrawn in a long time."

That was very strange indeed. Anakin could sense that there was more hidden here. "What have the Dynasts decided, then?"

"They met in secret with Chi'in clan Rim'kai. He returned to us briefly, but left again soon after the meeting."

Ah. So Chi'in had not forgotten his people. Good. "What happened then?"

"The Dynasts decided that the Noghri will continue to serve the Empire."

Anakin felt as if someone had punched a steel fist into his stomach. He tried hard to hide his shock, but his mind felt completely blank. Why had Chi'in done this? Why? "They will continue to serve?" he managed.

"Yes." Andarack did not seem to find this disturbing in the least. "Why would you object, my lord? The Empire has helped our people in our darkest hour, and they continue to aid us."

"Of course," the Dark Lord said a bit weakly and his lips compressed into a tight, grim line. "And what are you doing here, Andarack clan Rim'kai? What is your assignment?"

The warrior threw a cold glance at the human, who was standing next to Loya. "My orders are to eliminate him."

"Why?"

"I do not question orders, my lord," Andarack replied stiffly.

"Indeed." Straightening to his full height Anakin nodded. "Who gave you those orders? Chi'in?"

"No. General Zi'Assime. He speaks for the Empire on Honoghr now."

Anakin nodded coldly, then turned toward the Devaronian. "Loya, I want you to take this man and get him back to the others. Question him. Find out what Yana wants here. Andarack, you are coming with me. And, Loya, you will report your findings to my wife."

"Yes, sure, whatever you say. Come on, sunnyboy." Shoving the paralysed human in front of him, the Devaronian left. 

"My lord, where are we going?" Andarack asked quietly, as Anakin followed the alien. 

"You will tell me every order Zi'Assime has issued ever since he came to you. You will tell me everything."

What had gone wrong? Why had Chi'in convinced the Dynasts to continue the Noghri's servitude? He realized that the answer was actually very simple. Until conditions were stable, until the New Republic was strong enough to claim its own, the Noghri would be better off with the support only the Empire could grant them right now. Above everything else Chi'in was a pragmatic. He did not sanction back-stabbing or manipulation of any sort, so the most obvious reason had to be the true one. 

But this did not make matters any better. If the Empire still had control over the Noghri death commandos, they could easily wrack havoc in the new senate. Anakin knew he had to stop them, and Andarack would be his messenger here. He remembered General Zi'Assime, a nasty type, unnecessary cruel and harsh toward his subordinates. 

Well, he had a duty to the people of the New Republic, and the Noghri, and even the Empire. He sighed deeply. Why did everything always have to be so complicated?

  
  
  
  


TBC


	8. Chapter 7 - Enemy at the Gates

****

Chapter 7 - Enemy at the Gates

Yana hastened down the corridor swiftly, mind focused ahead, on where she could sense the Dark Side flare in angry busts of outrage and denial. Bursting into the Princess' cabin she was just in time to see Irek fly against the bulkhead, and Leia's slim figure crouching low in a defensive posture she must have slunk back into after having blunted the boy's initial attack. She should have known that the Princess' recovery would set her half-brother on edge. Why had she not thought of that beforehand? Yana stopped scolding herself and stepped up smartly to lay a hand on Irek's shoulder as he rose again.

"It is not worth the effort," she murmured softly, for his ears only. His young face darkened moodily, and he was glaring murder at the Princess.

"How did she come back?" he demanded. "How?"

"Your field of expertise is somewhat different from hers. You excel at influencing machines, she at manipulating people. Don't let her goad you into such an attack again," Yana explained calmly, and arched her eyebrows in a mute question. Finally Irek nodded and she could sense him relax a fraction. So different from his father, so very different. Yana almost sighed. It was a shame that Irek had been cursed only with the dark sides of his heritage, and seemingly none of the benefits. He disengaged from her, jerking his shoulder out of her grasp, and stalked out of the cabin, ignoring Leia completely. The Princess watched him go with a calculating expression on her cool features.

"What a temper," she said at last. Yana stared.

"Is that all? He almost killed you, and you provoke him!"

"I did none of that. He came in here and started questioning me on how I managed to come back. When I refused to answer he attacked me. It is that simple."

"How _did_ you come back, Leia?"

The Princess smiled thinly. "Some friends were of some assistance. Speaking of: what are your plans for Yaga Minor?"

"Irek and Erinin will leave for their mission, along with some of my best men and some mercenaries Erinin hired for Roganda. Which means that Roganda is more or less helpless."

"Good for us. If she does not get paranoid."

"She trusts me, to some extent. Do not worry. I will be able to control her. Once I know how the nobles think about her plan we can start on your next move."

Leia nodded. "We must isolate her. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Certainly. I know the court. They are ambitious fools with a taste for credits and power. Anto Andorwyn is the worst." She sat down on the Princess' bunk elegantly. "I have done some research on his most recent activities, and I noticed that he made some credit transfers to Yaga Minor. Which means that he's planning something big. I will find out what it is, and I suppose I can use that to turn the rest of them against Andorwyn and rekindle their little contests for dominance. Roganda will be pushed aside easily then."

"You seem very sure about this, Yana."

"Zsinj cntrols the sector, and I do not doubt that most of Andorwyn's credits went into his pockets. I have a suspicion about what that might mean, but I need confirmation."

"Which is why you accompanied Roganda in the first place, am I right?"

"Exactly." 

No need to mention that, if her suspicions where right, she could control the Princess more easily. If Leia even got a glimpe of what Yana was planning for her... Not deliver her to Joral, no way. There was no sense in indulging the Hutt too much. But when she had first talked with Roganda about her grand scheme the Princess had been mentioned already. Roganda had wanted to use her as sort of shield against the Dark Lord, but she had failed to grasp that Leia herself had now moved into a key position. As Minister of State she would have use of a network that could cover Imperial and Republic sources as well as the fringe, an information source that went beyond what Talon Karrde could deliver. The benefits for Yana were clear: she needed credits to expand, to get Abla the storage space he needed to run the program, bribes, ransom, whatever. Credits ruled the galaxy, and once Leia realized how useful and how necessary Yana's knowledge was for her...

"When are you due to leave?" the Princess inquired as she joined Yana on the bunk.

"Couple of hours. I would appreciate it if you stayed on board. Roganda would too, I imagine."

"I suppose so." Throwing her a smile Leia shrugged once more. "We have a deal, Yana. I won't break it."

"Neither will I."

Padmé sat rigidly in her chair, worrying. It was almost midnight and Anakin was not back yet. He had not even deemed it necessary to call, and slowly suspicion was sneaking into her mind, asking if General Page might not have been right. There had been another transmission from Niaruan, and Mon Mothma had not been happy about it. Apparently Thrawn had asked Anakin to keep a close eye on the President, and he wanted Padmé to establish contact with the Imperial remnant. Needless to mention that the report had come at a decidedly awkward time. 

Where had Anakin vanished to? She should be tired, she knew, but she was too wound up to notice her own weariness. Besides, her company did not allow her to show any weakness. Page had ordered two Intelligence agents off to 'guard' her. It was humiliating to be treated like an untrustworthy criminal, and the feeling enfuriated Padmé even more. When Anakin got home he would get an earful about this, and no mistake! _If_ he came back. 

She jumped when the door opened and he strode into the room casually, as if nothing was wrong. He gave the two agents a dispassionate gaze and dropped his coat on the sofa before he folded his arms across his chest and arched his eyebrows coolly. 

"What is the meaning of this?" His tone was icy and his demeanor more than merely arrogant. Padmé rose from her seat carefully, ready to caution him, if necessary. But one of the agents stepped forward smartly and nodded.

"Lord Skywalker, we have been given orders to escort you to the New Republic Intelligence headquarters for questioning."

"You mean that I am under arrest?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you say so? Well, I guess I should not be surprised, and, truth to tell, I am not." He flashed the man a nasty smile. 

"Anakin, where have you been?" Padmé asked testily. She _was_ tired.

"Did _you_ tell them?" he asked right back and his voice frightened her. Feeling cold all over she shook her head vehemently.

"No! They found out a few things, and drew their conclusions. It does not matter anyway," she added after a moment's hesitation.

"You are right. Well, gentlemen, let's go then."

"Madam, you can stay, if you want," the agent who had spoken before told her, but she declined.

"Thank you, but I would rather accompany my husband."

"As you wish."

They all took a speeder over to what had once been Anakin's home here on Coruscant, and Padmé felt strangely fearful as they closed in on the forbidding structure. At her side Anakin turned his head and smiled down at her gently. He took her hand and squeezed it with delicate care. As always he did not show any signs of anxiety, but, judging from his behavior back at their apartment, Padmé had no doubt that he held all the aces. No surprise there either. Smiling to herself she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. It did not matter what they were about to face, as long as they were together. 

Suppressing a joyful smile Anakin relished the warmth he could sense emanating from Padmé. She was fully confident in his ideals and intentions, and her trust was more than welcome now. He had been questioning Andarack for hours, always hunting for the right answer, trying to piece the clues together to an overall picture of what was going on around them. The Noghri had been vague, mostly, issuing guesses of what he thought Zi'Assime might be planning. Apparently the general only told his agents what they immediately had to know to accomplish their mission. An excellent information policy, that made it hard for the Dark Lord to understand Andarack's scetchy report. In the end though he had had enough pieces to work out some of what the Imperial remnant might be planning. Now the assassin was on his way off-planet, to establish contact with the remaining Noghri death commandos. Loya should be finished with questioning Yana Dar's agent, and Anakin was still waiting for the Devaronians report. Well, that would have to wait until later anyway. 

The speeder drew up to the fortress' gate and, after the driver had identified himself and his passengers, proceeded into the courtyard that lay beyond. Padmé stirred in his arms and raised her head muzzily. She had fallen asleep and was just waking up again. Anakin hugged her briefly and helped her disembark. Her large brown eyes took in their surroundings with mounting horror. He had not allowed her to see the fortress once they had established their new home in the Imperial Palace. But now she would see it after all. Anakin feared the moment when she would realize his reasons for keeping her away from this place. Those memories were not for her eyes, the burden not for her to share. Looking up at him she gave him a sorrowful glance, understanding and compassion mixed with bitterness. She did not say a word, though. 

Following the two agents into the fortress they walked along bleak corridors, ugly things, functional above everything else. The Dark Lord ignored the surroundings. He knew the fortress inside out, after all. They were being led toward the main meeting hall, he estimated, and indeed, when they entered a turbo-lift and let it carry them downstairs, his estimate was confirmed. 

"This way, please," one of the agents said and opened the doors. Anakin stepped through unhurriedly and drew out a chair for Padmé close to the door. She took his offer and seated herself gingerly, playing along nicely. Settling himself into another chair as comfortably as it was possible Anakin nodded at the other attendees. Mon Mothma's face was twisted into an annoyed scowl and she looked incredibly tired. Seated next to her Telmann Page wore a carefully neutral expression, but his eyes betrayed him. He did not approve of the Dark Lord's initiative at all. 

"Good evening," Mon Mothma began, then looked at her wrist chrono pointedly. "Or rather, good morning. I am very pleased to see you, Lord Skywalker."

"I assumed as much."

"You are aware of the charges?"

"Charges? No. I only was told to come here." 

Mon Mothma silenced the agents, who had followed them in, before they had a chance to protest. She knew him well, oh yes. Anakin gave her a polite, little smile, but she did not let herself be irritated by that. "You can stop fooling around. We know what you have been doing."

"I doubt it."

"You kept back information! Vital information!" Such an emotional outburst from Mon Mothma was very rare, and therefore shocking. "You conferred with the Grand Admiral without my knowledge!"

"Since when is it of any interest to the New Republic who a civilian confers with?" 

Her face went white with fury. "You are not just any civilian!" 

"Ah." Anakin nodded in understanding. "I knew there was something I had forgotten."

Padmé squeezed his arm cautiously and gave him a look that told him very unmistakably that he should at once cease enraging the President even more. But the Dark Lord had destined Mon Mothma for a fall, and the greater her rage, all the more rewarding her shock would be in the end. That should teach her. 

Telmann Page apparently had some suspicion as to Anakin's goal, for he frowned first at the President, then at the Dark Lord, and rose from his seat. "Perhaps we could get down to business?" The other three nodded. "Good. Lord Skywalker, Intelligence has uncovered a connection between Yana Dar and Grand Admiral Tious Markhan."

Anakin felt his jaw drop. "What?"

The smug smile that appeared on Mon Mothma's face was very infuriating indeed. "You did not know," she said, her voice almost a purr of satisfaction. "And I always thought you knew everything."

"Could you cease this foolish powerplay, please?" Padmé asked coolly. "Apparently the slicer Han hired works for the Empire, and perhaps Yana Dar does, too. There is more." She gave Page an encouraging smile. 

"Thank you," the General said drily. "We have been investigating in Hutt Space, just as you suggested, Lord Skywalker. The slicer is Abla Othana, who used to work for Markhan and now works for Yana Dar. My agents tell me that he holds contacts to the Hutts, too. With Joral. It was only natural to assume that you were behind this, when our agents confirmed that Han Solo met with Joral and Othana."

Anakin rose to his feet and leaned toward the General menacingly. "Behind _what_ exactly? My own daughter's kidnapping?"

"Of course not!" Page's resolve faltered. "But we would appreciate it greatly, if you would enlighten us as to what exactly you are aiming at with your activities."

Straightening again the Dark Lord put on a blank expression and nodded slowly. "It started with the conquest of Coruscant last year." He began pacing the room as he focused his thoughts, trying to find the right words. "You may remember that I told you time and again that I was aiming at a fast resolution, because our resources were wearing out. Admittedly, I had hoped back then that our victory would be more complete than it turned out to be in the end. You know that I tried everything I could to end the conflict with as few casualties as possible, but Palpatine and Kell blunted my plans. I knew, though, that we would not be vulnerable during the first months of founding the New Republic, because the memory of the Empire's cruelty was fresh in the minds of everyone and they would not let anyone take their freedom away again." Raising his head he gazed straight at Mon Mothma. "And yet I worried over our security. There is an old rule I always knew I did not dare break, though: You do not raise an army twice. The expenses will become too much."

"That was why I urged you to send the fleet out to guard the borders, the other reason for that move was to let the people forget about the war at last," Mon Mothma explained quietly. "I asked your advice on that and you agreed with me. As I recall you told me that we all needed rest."

"Yes. Very true. There is just one problem with that: we have expended our resources, almost all of them, and we will not be able to recover from that any time soon. You have to decide what is more important, keeping the military stable or supporting the economy. Palpatine favored those companies that manufactured weapons, ships, everything he needed to impose his reign on this galaxy. That has to change. The only reason why your government has been tolerated so far is because the people believe in the future. They believe in peace." Anakin shrugged. 

"You did well in sending Piett to gain new allies. We will need them. Yet I fear that this initiative comes too late."

"How so?" Page asked quietly. 

"My previous information did not extend to covering the ties between Othana and Markhan, or between Othana and Joral. It certainly puts a new light on what information I do have now, though."

"Would you care to explain further?" Mon Motham inquired, perfectly serene once more.

"Certainly. I knew that the Imperial remnant would strike at us sooner or later, and they had all the advantages. Still have, for that matter. Had it been possible I would have gladly taken the fight to the enemy, but we would have lost badly. Therefore I decided on a different course. First, apart from regaining our resources, we had to strengthen our alliances. I left that to you, since, as you have told me time and again, you are the politician. Now though we face an attack and are still unprepared."

"Why did you not include that in your calculations then?" the President asked softly. "I trusted your judgement, your advice."

"You never did, Mon Mothma. You always had to double-check everything I did, always had to test whether my suggestions were compatible with your public campaign. You did not give me any chance, especially not in the past months. Besides, I expected that you would assume that responsibility yourself. You made it clear from the beginning that you saw my field of expertise only in warfare, not diplomacy. I even agree to that."

"Lord Vader, this is ridiculous." Anakin smiled at her slip and she had the grace to look embarrassed, but then her eyes flashed in open anger. "No! I will not make excuses." She gave him a determined glare. "I never forgot who you are, and I never will. Fact is, though, that your ill planning has gotten us into this predicament."

"Don't you want to know what predicament exactly that is?" he asked mildly.

She gestured vaguely for him to go ahead. "Yes. Please."

"Thank you." Resuming his pacing Anakin pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I had not anticipated anyone to kidnap Leia. I am still not certain if Markhan was behind this. Here's a fact, though. Markhan has ace troops, untouched resources, and a contingent of warlords filled with resentment and the desire to get theirs back. They face a divided government, which, after an entire year, only has wobbly alliances to show for. An army, almost recovered, but only almost, that would rather follow me than you, a navy which is spread out wide along our perimeters. If he decides to attack us now we will be easy prey. The Force only knows what he is waiting for." He paused, stunned silence rushing in to fill the gap his words had left behind.

"What can we do?" Padmé asked at last.

"Build up our defenses. Recall the fleet and have only a few ships patrol the border to give us warning, if necessary. As for the rest... General Page has instinctively taken the right measures already. Information is what we need now, so, in the best case, we can anticipate a weakness in our opponent even before it shows. There must be something, or else Markhan would have made his move already."

"Excellent. So, what have you been up to?"

He gave Padmé an embarrassed smile. "Not much, actually. Until today I limited myself to keeping in touch with Thrawn, and Karrde, and acquiring new agents."

"New agents?" Mon Mothma exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because my old ones are too well known. Besides, Jix and Mara are headed toward Byss, at Yana Dar's request, and I pray they will get back from that mission alive. As for Chi'in, well, these days even I do not know what he is up to."

Page had been listening more closely, apparently. "What happened today?" 

"I learned that Tious Markhan is conducting his own efforts in gaining allies. The Hutts, for one. What you said about Othana and Joral confirms that information."

"Ah, speaking of." Mon Mothma injected. "There's something else I want to bring up here. Is it true that Roj Kell is currently operating in Hutt Space?"

"That is what Talon Karrde reports," Anakin answered with a shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine, although, I - " he hesitated, and shot a brief glance at Padmé. "We did not tell you this, and we resolved not to tell you once everything cleared up, but I felt a disturbance, a very strong one. It ... swallowed ... Leia's presence for a time, but now she is back and unharmed. She is up to something, and I pity her opponents already."

"You suspected that Roj Kell was responsible?"

"Perhaps he was. I cannot be certain."

"Then what do we do now?" the President asked quietly. 

"Gather our defenses, just as I said. We need to hold the New Repblic together, no matter what happens."

Roganda felt strangely timid when her son stormed into her quarters, his young face flushed with excitement, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. She did not want her little boy to go off alone. It was hard for her to accept that he was almost grown up now, that he was not a child any longer. He needed to stretch his wings, she knew, but there was still a mother's worry that something would happen to him if she was not close. Only when he stopped short upon reaching her, looking down at her questioningly, did she realize that he must have noticed her mood.

"Is everything prepared?" she asked quietly and he nodded.

"Yes. The last tests went perfectly. I can almost feel her now!" It was good to see that childish joy flash across his pale face, and Roganda smiled at him, pleased. 

"I am very proud of your achievements," she said gently and ran a hand over his left cheek as she used to do when he was little. 

"And worried."

"Yes, I admit it." Hanging her head she felt terribly sad. "I am going to miss you, Irek."

"Erinin is coming with me, Mother. He will take care that nothing happens to me," he replied, his tone almost soothing. But she had noticed that he had not said that he would miss her, too. Was that a bad sign? She was not certain. Irek was so different from his father, but those differences were frightening, too. There were things about his personality she had not noticed two years earlier, a cruel streak and a ruthlessness she thought dangerous. Was she a bad mother for feeling that way? 

"Irek, I want you to be careful," she explained. "You opponent is shrewd. Do not let him get out of hand."

"I will take care, Mother." He looked at her somewhat strangely, and a hint of a smile was lurking at the corners of his mouth. A mocking smile. 

Roganda was taken aback by his behavior. Perhaps it was not such a good idea to let him run off now, without her guidance. "You know what is at stake," she reminded him, but he only looked bored. Perhaps an appeal to his sense of duty would help. "Everything depends on you." Irek nodded mutely and turned around toward the door. A moment later Erinin appeared, his one eye mustering his young charge coolly. 

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Finish your goodbyes then. We need to be gone before anyone notices we were here in the first place." He gave Roganda a casual nod before he left again.

Never before had the bodyguard made his loyalties so clear. She had known, of course, that Palpatine had ordered Erinin to protect the child, and subsequently his mother, but only now did the former concubine and Emperor's Hand realize, that, once both he and Irek were gone, she would be all alone. She suppressed a tiny shiver, very conscious of the fact that Irek could pick up on her emotions if he put his mind to it. It seemed that his abilities in that field had increased tremenduously over the past days, ever since his violent outburst back at Nar Shadaa. 

"Run along now," she managed with an affectionate smile. It did not matter what he thought of her, she mused, it could not change what she felt for him. Ever. Irek smirked at her, but he seemed on the verge of coming forward to embrace her. In the last moment he changed his mind, though, and whirled away, leaving on Erinin's heels without another word.

Once he had gone Roganda dropped onto the couch, feeling utterly crushed. All alone... Now it was up to her to ensure the support Irek would need for the future. She knew that none of the prospective allies she was going to meet tonight was aware of what exactly her function had been at Palpatine's court. She knew far more about each one of them than any suspected. Yana Dar had warned her to be careful, and the girl certainly had inherited her father's love for intricate schemes and deft manipulation. But could she trust her? Yana had assured her that she had no desire to claim the throne herself. In fact, she had been awfully vague on why she was helping Roganda at all. Because she had always resented her father, she had said, because she would hate to see Irek's talents go to waste. All plausible motives, but Roganda had learned not to trust what people said. It sometimes was much different from what they truly meant. 

As if called by her musings the door slid open to reveal Yana standing there. The information broker wore a richly embroidered sky-blue dess with a plunging neckline, and her hair was done up in an elaborate style, emphasizing her long, pale neck exquisitely. She looked down at Roganda pensively, then smiled.

"He is gone?"

"Yes." She heaved a wistful sigh. "I wish I could be with him now."

"Understandable." Yana sat down beside her and lay a hand on her shoulder in a warm gesture of companionship. "You always knew that the day would come when he would have to fly free. That day is now, Roganda."

"I hope dearly that you mother handled it better than I just did."

The information broker narrowed her eyes angrily. "My mother died before I was three years old and my father let me do what I pleased, as long as I didn't bother him." She shook her head and loosened a few tendrils from her exquisite hair-do. "I am sure you did well."

Roganda shrugged helplessly. "He seems so strange at times..."

"It is part of his heritage. Trust me on that," Yana added with a tiny smile and hugged the older woman carefully. "Come. Our allies are waiting for us."

Leia focused her mind on the ship's remaining passengers and found that Roganda and Yana were already on their way to board the tiny shuttle that would bring them to Yaga Minor. About half an hour ago Irek had left the ship, and she was very glad for that. He frightened her for some reason, not because of what she knew he would attempt out in the Unknown Regions, but because she had the feeling that he was not just some troublesome youth who craved some liberty, but because she was certain that he was skirting close to insanity. 

Yana had told her that he had probably attacked her out of a desire to annoy his mother, but Leia thought differently. He could have just killed her and achieved the same. No, there was something more, something that was driving him unconsciously. Recalling her vision and the subsequent meeting with Belana Jen and Roj Kell the Princess wished that she had some of their guidance right now, some of their knowledge. Impossible, she knew. Yet she was not helpless, or without allies. 

It was true what Yana had said: Roganda was at their mercy. They could dissemble her entire plan easily, but they could not stop Irek. No way. Yet his mother was the means to control him, perhaps. The Princess had strong doubts in that, regarding the past events, but Yana had assured her that Irek had no idea what to do apart from following his mother's plan. He had no choice, really, and even if he decided to go rampant he would still return to Roganda in the end. That was what family was all about: you did not abandon family. She only had to look at her own to find confirmation for that reasoning.

The one thing that bothered her though was Yana's motivation. She could not explain to herself what the information broker got out of this deal. Perhaps she had a grudge against the Imperial court, but so far Yana had not struck her as particularly vengeful. A secretive woman, unfortunately. Still, she had promised Leia help, and the Princess would gladly take it. 

Adjusting her dress Roganda spared a small glance for the rich exterior of the Governor's Palace before she entered the richly decorated ante-room, which was nothing in comparison to what greeted her in the chamber beyond.

"I wanted a quiet get-together!" Roganda hissed under her breath, when a tall, slender man left the small group assembled at the rich buffet to greet them. Anto Andorwyn, possibly the last man she wanted to meet again, apart from Palpatine himself. The man reeked of ambition.

"My lady! Welcome to Yaga Minor!" 

"Thank you, Lord Andorwyn," Roganda replied sweetly. "You arranged this for us? How wonderful!"

"Of course. I wanted to provide a fitting frame for your announcement, that we are all anxiously awaiting, if I might add." Andorwyn frowned ever so slightly at Roganda's companion, and she noticed the way his eyes lit up when Yana gave him a smile that was very inviting indeed. "A pleasure," he murmured. "Please follow me and let me introduce you to the rest." 

Once all pleasantries had been done with Roganda was getting ready for her announcement. Gathering the others around herself she smiled pleasantly and nodded. Looking at Yana quite pointedly she began:

"My friends, we all know how happy we can be to still be alive in these troubled times. I for one am very glad to be here, with you, on this day." 

She lay a hand against her bosom gently and lowered her head in a demure gesture that made most of the men smile at her almost fondly. "I know these are not good times for anyone who refused to accept that deceitful rebel alliance. They are criminals, terrorists even, and now they believe they can take what was never theirs to inherit."

"And what you want your son to inherit?" a female voice challenged her. Roganda gave the assembly a timid, slightly confused look. 

"Please, just listen," she said softly, forcing the others to strain their ears to hear her properly. "My son is the righful heir to the throne, as any test will show you, but I know that you would not want Palpatine's reign to continue." She shuddered delicately. "Neither would I."

"What are you saying? That we would have the advantagesof the court, but not the disadvantages?" someone asked.

"I want to offer you an opportunity to continue the lives you have grown used to. My son," here Roganda smiled fondly, "is gifted with extraordinary talents that can serve all of us."

"Palpatine served no one but himself!" someone shouted.

"I do not suggest to resurrect the Emperor as we knew him. What I am proposing is an arrangement that would unite the people behind you, would make them accept you again."

"What about the warlords?" Andorwyn asked suddenly. 

"They will not be a problem. We will have the means to rally the navy to us, too."

"And what would that be?"

Roganda smiled at him. He was the most ambitious and the most powerful among the ones assembled here. If she revealed the plan first to him, and he played along, all the others would be led to believe that he knew more than they did. They would try to widdle their way into his good graces, and he would enjoy their attention immensely, she knew. Roganda was certain that then she would have a grateful ally in him. "Please, my lord, walk with me and I will tell you."

Yana was watching Roganda over the heads of the crowd suspiciously and sipped her drink slowly, waiting for her prey to catch the bait she had laid out previously. Making a pass trough the crowd slowly Rogand took each one aside to lay out her plans to them, but Andorwyn had been first. Interesting move. Ever since Roganda had left him he had been studying Yana intently, and she was in no way surprised when he finally came over to join her. 

"A promising young man," the Kuati said quietly.

"Who?"

"Irek Ismaren, of course."

"You truly believe so? We shall see, won't we?" Yana gave him a smile that was challenge and invitation rolled into one. "Lord Andorwyn, I hear you have had some dealings with the Imperial remnant of late. I was surprised I did not see Zsinj here tonight."

"He is a busy man."

"I thought so," Yana said with some satisfaction. Zsinj was one of the major Imperial warlords still around, and he controlled the sector around Yaga Minor. If he was busy... Suddenly a thought occured to her. What if someone else had paid off the nobles already, had laid out a trap for Roganda herself? If someone else knew about Irek and his abilities they would have been able to capture both mother and son here, today. But this had not happened, had it? She relaxed again.

"You are very well informed," Andorwyn murmured.

"You too, my lord, remarkably well," Yana commented drily. "There are a few other things I know very well. Perhaps I could show you?"

"Later, maybe," Andorwyn replied graciously. "If you would excuse me?" 

Pursing her lips thoughtfully she watched him go.Then she made sure than no one was watching and followed at a safe distance. 

"The boy is gone," Tious Markhan hissed softly, his dark eyes boring into Andorwyn with a cold glare. 

"Apparently he left before they even came onplanet."

"You assured me that your spies were reliable," the Grand Admiral said, each word driven home pointedly. "Must I remind you that it is you who does benefit from our arrangement? To me, my lord, your services are expendable."

Anto Andorwyn did not seem impressed. "I have something else for you, Grand Admiral."

"What would that be?"

"Roganda Ismaren did not come alone. She had a companion. Yana Dar."

As if he didn't know already! Tious did not even blink. "You will see to it that Roganda Ismaren does not leave Yaga Minor, and keep me posted on Yana Dar's activities." 

"As you wish, Grand Admiral." Bowing slightly the Kuati ended the transmission. Tious Markhan leaned back in his chair, brooding angrily. Irek Ismaren was gone, but he finally knew now what Roganda Ismaren was planning. Attack the Executor! It seemed ridiculous. Yet the plan might even succeed...

"Bad news, sir?" Sarreti had appeared noiselessly, standing at a respectful distance in front of the Admiral's desk.

"General Zi'Assime."

"Sir?"

"Have him summoned here, and put the word out that I want all fleet commanders who are not currently deployed to meet tomorrow at nine hours."

"At once, sir."

Once the lieutenant had left Markhan closed his eyes slowly, focusing his mind. Joral had reported increased NRI activity on Nar Shadaa, which meant that they had taken the bait he had laid out there. Once the rebellion on Ryloth began the New Republic would have to choose fast, whether they wanted to come to the Twi'lek's aid, or whether the risk was too high. He had no doubts, though, that in the end Mon Mothma would overrule her military advisors. She was the kind who would set compassion over security. Especially now. 

Yet, once they had the Princess on Nal Hutta the drift between government and military would widen greatly. The Dark Lord would run interference against the President's orders, and she would punish him for that. He smiled slowly. The New Republic would weaken itself. No need for confirmation from Andorwyn. Let the man race after hints and shadows and waste his resources. In the end the military would triumph, not the court.

Leia tried to enjoy the quiet meal she was sharing with Nasrda Magrody in her cabin. The professor, who had invited himself in, kept very silent, his eyes focused into the distance. He barely ate anything, but then, she herself did not really feel hungry. Ever so often her thoughts drfited toward the future. What would come of Irek's mission? What exactly was Yana planning? And what was Han doing right now? Heaving a deep sigh the Princess propped her chin up on one hand and met Magrody's pensive glance.

"I wonder if they will succeed?" he mused aloud, leaving it open who he was referring to. 

"There is no action without reaction, professor," Leia said and he nodded. "No action without consequences. I have a feeling that Roganda has not thought this through properly. Even if Irek suscceeds, the Executor is not invincible."

"Close enough," he replied with a tiny smile. "Yet we have to keep our faith." Now it was his turn to sigh, and Leia knew that he must be thinking of his family. A pang of guilt cramped her stomach into a tight knot as she envisioned her parents, her brother, worrying for her, not knowing what had happened. _Father?_ she called, but again there was no answer. 

"What I do not entirely understand," she began anew, "is why Roganda did not know that the court was going to meet here anyway, but Yana did. Someone must have called the meeting before Roganda made her request."

"Perhaps."

"But to what purpose?" Leia wondered, right before her mind came aflame with a surge of adrenaline, that she had come to recognize as a sign of imminent danger. She half rose from her seat, but then something heavy impacted against the ship hull, throwing her off balance. Magrody caught her before she could fall to the deck. Hanging in his arms Leia tensed, her senses sharpened to their limit, her perception wide open. 

"What was that?" the professor hissed.

"Ssh!" she cautioned him, then slowly gathered her feet underneath her and stepped out of his grasp. "That sounded like a cofferdam or something."

"Do you think we are being boarded?" The sound of sudden blaster fire confirmed Magrody's suspicion, but the fire died down as soon as it had begun. 

"That was an awfully short battle," Leia whispered, wishing that she had some weapon. She could pick up a group of perhaps six beings, all filled with determination and purpose. And headed here. The door slid open and Leia's breath caught in her throat at the sight of four stormtroopers, their white armor glistening in the artificial lights, making them look like droids. No! Not the Empire! The first two stepped aside smartly to reveal two more men standing in the midst of the small squad. Both wore the slate gray uniform of Imperial navy officers. The younger, taller of them wore the rank insignia of a general, and Leia noticed a glitter in his eyes that made her uncomfortable. He looked as if he were just waiting to make a kill. His older companion was shorter, heavy-set, and his uniform decorated with more rank bars than the Princess had ever seen before. He was smiling at her.

"Your Highness, it is a pleasure to find you here. I am Zsinj, at your service." His eyes shifted toward Magrody. "Professor. Another surprise." 

Leia managed a tight grimace. She remembered Yana mentioning Zsinj, pointing out that he ruled the sector, and that Andorwyn was financing the warlord. His presence here, now, made everything fall into place. Andorwyn had called the meeting, to gather the court behind Zsinj. It was logical, and it also told the Princess that there was a rift through Imperial command. And Yana had known all along. Had she set this trap, then?

"You seem surprised, Princess." the warlord told her calmly.

"Perhaps I am, a bit. Let me hazard a guess, though. Your troops are currently raiding the planet to capture Roganda Ismaren. True?"

"Very good. It was a lucky stroke that she announced her participation at the meeting, yet Yana Dar's presence was somewhat unexpected."

"Really?"

"Indeed. General Melvar, please escort the Princess to the shuttle. I want some time alone with our dear professor."

"As ordered, my lord." The General gave Leia a curt nod, signalling for her to follow him and his troops. She resigned herself to her fate for now, knowing full well that she stood no chance against the soldiers, and strode after Melvar briskly, all the while wondering what Zsinj wanted with Magrody. Information on Roganda and Irek? Possibly.

Melvar took her to what looked indeed like a cofferdam, and they stepped through to enter an Imperial assault shuttle. Leia was directed to one of the passenger seats and soon the ship began drifting toward Yaga Minor.

"You will be Lord Andorwyn's guest, I assume, for the time being," the general explained. 

"What is this all about?" she asked. "First you lure Roganda Ismaren here, with Yana Dar's help, but fail to apprehend her before she got on planet. This doesn't make any sense."

"From your point of view it does not," Melvar said with a smile. "But then, your information is incomplete."

"Would you care to enlighten me?" 

"I suppose it is all the same now, anyway. This trap for Ismaren was first devised by the Grand Admiral." He noticed her shocked expression and laughed out loud. "Nah, not your alien pet-dog. I am referring to Tious Markhan. Markhan is a fool in some ways, but he is powerful. Not someone you should mess with, but I believe the New Republic will learn that soon enough." 

"Why did he want to trap them?"

Melvar shrugged. "He wanted the boy, not his mother. Not that it is in any way important."

"Andorwyn is financing Zsinj, am I right?"

"Weapons and troops are expensive, as I am sure you know, Princess."

"I will take that as a 'yes'. Then Zsinj means to challenge the Grand Admiral?"

"Smart girl. Let Markhan hunt after the Ismaren boy if he wants him so much. In the meantime we will gather our allies and troops and stand ready."

Leia did not reply. What Melvar, and possibly Zsinj, too, had failed to notice was that Irek was going to attack the most popwerful warship that existed throughout the galaxy. And not even his mother knew what he was planning to do then. He might decide to turn on the New Republic, or the Imperial remnant. Nothing was certain beyond one fact: another war had become inevitable.

"Sharam! I am busy! I'll call back!" Yana yelled into her comm link as she ducked into another hallway, seeking to put more distance between herself and the pursuing stormtroopers. They had stormed the Governor's Palace only minutes ago, but luckily Yana had had some warning beforehand. She was still wondering why Roganda had hesitated to follow. The woman had potential, but she had apparently never learned to use it. Gathering the long skirt of her dress high Yana willed herself to run even faster. There was a small gate in one of the gardens that she remembered was never guarded, and the attack was so well-planned that they must have anticipated to capture everyone in one go. Still, this was Zsinj she was dealing with. The man was not a complete idiot, and he would have the complex surrounded already. Suddenly her comm chimed again. 

"What!". 

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" a man's voice asked drily.

"Karrde!" she rolled her eyes in disgust. "I don't have time for a chat, so-"

"Perhaps you would consider a brisk walk to the roof?"

"What?"

"Details will have to wait for later. Get to the roof, if you want to get out."

Yana stared at the comm link in disbelief. For a split-second she was undecided, but then her instincts kicked in and pointed her toward the next turbo-lift. As the car took her toward the last floor underneath the roof she tried to catch her breath. So she had anticipated Andorwyn correctly. The man was trying to gain the navy's support, and if he did succeed here the rest of the court would have to bow to him. A clever trick. Yet Yana knew that Zsinj was not the only warlord around, and she suspected that some of the others would not appreciate the nobles' credits flowing into Zsinj's troops and equipment. For the New Republic this meant that they might be rid of the Imperial threat through internal struggles. If the Imperial remnant fell prey to a civil war... Yana grimaced slightly. No, that was certainly not the most desirable option for the future. The lift stopped and she pushed her way between the doors brutally, when they opened too slowly for her taste. 

A short flight of stairs led to the roof and she scanned her surroundings closely, before she made the dash for freedom. Hopefully Karrde was not leading her on. Bursting out onto the roof she almost screamed with relief when she saw the Wilde Karrde nestled there, the ship holding its own against a set of TIE fighters. Yana raced toward the lowered ramp of the ship and scrambled up into the safety of the entry hatch, which promptly closed behind her. Hands grabbed her and dragged her further into the ship, as it lifted off the roof smoothly. 

"Aves," she breathed, when she recognized the man holding her. "What are you doing here?"

"Heard you were coming to visit," he shrugged. "Best to ask Karrde himself."

"You bet I will." The ship lurched and rocked under the laser bolts impacting against the shields and hull. Keeping her balance with some difficulty Yana made her way slowly over to where she thought the bridge must be. Aves was walking right behind her.

"I wouldn't advise you to go there yet," he told her softly. "Go get strapped in back here. I gotta go up. See you later."

Thus dismissed Yana growled softly under her breath, but complied. She found a rec couch with emergency harness and strapped herself in. The Wilde Karrde was accelerating now, and she guessed that they were heading toward their jump point by now. Her mouth twisted in disdain as she thought about who she had been forced to leave behind. She had promised the Princess her help, and now Leia would fall in enemy hands despite her promise. It was frustrating. Roganda in Zsinj's clutches... There was no telling what he would do about Irek, if he bothered at all. With a final lurch the Wilde Karrde made the jump to lightspeed and then they were headed safely away from Yaga Minor. A few moments later she heard someone approach. It was Talon Karrde.

"Yana Dar." He nodded at her, then walked over to come to a stop in front of her. 

"Who told you I was coming to Yaga Minor?"

"It was just a rumor, but it fit with the nobles gathering there. I thought it worth checking out."

"Thanks for the rescue," she replied quietly. "Where are we going now?"

"We are leaving Imperial space for Obroa-Skai."

Yana shook her head vehemently. "No! The Princess is still on Yaga Minor!"

"The Princess?" he frowned down at her suspiciously. Then realization dawned on his face. "You were behind this!"

"No," Yana said firmly. "I am not behind her kidnapping. "That was Roganda Ismaren's plot. Not that it helped her much."

"The Princess, where is she?"

"My best guess is that she is Zsinj's prisoner."

Talon Karrde nodded slowly. "I have a proposal."

"Exactly what do you mean?" Yana asked, her eyes glittering.

"As recompensation for the rescue."

"Go ahead."

Karrde sat down next to her and nodded. "I have heard some rumors about Ryloth."

"What rumors?"

"There is supposedly a rebellion afoot. The Twi'lek don't want the Hutts' protection any longer."

"I heard that, too. Joral mentioned it."

His eyes studied her closely. "Well. I have been to Ryloth recently, and I know who has initiated this rumor, and who is behind the rebeliion."

"Wait a minute. If you are going to tell me all this I want to know what the prize will be."

"An exhcange of information. You know more about the Imperial remnant than Intelligence does. I want to know what is going on. Just this once, let us put competition aside and work together." He arched his eyebrows questioningly, and Yana nodded at last. "Good. Back to Ryloth. I met a man there, who is notorious for his schemes, and he warned me to keep the New Republic out of Hutt space. Any notion why?"

"Joral seemed certain that the New Republic would attack them. Your contact, is he reliable?"

To her surprise Karrde broke into a soft chuckle. "Reliable? I wish I knew for certain. But it is always safer to heed his warnings than ignore them. You are lucky if he gives warning at all."

Yana's eyes widened in surprise. "You aren't referring to the Dark Lord, are you? He is on Ryloth?" If that was true, then the Hutts were in for a nasty surprise. But she did not quite understand where the benefits lay for him -

"Not the Dark Lord," Karrde interrupted her thoughts. "A year and a half ago, approximately, there was another rumor, one you must have heard, too. It said that there was a man who knew more than anyone alive, whose knowledge was more precious than anything else."

"Roj Kell," Yana breathed, her eyes shining fervently.

"You know him."

Looking up sharply she met Karrde's cool gaze. "I - "

"You know him," he repeated softly. "That information was supposedly top secret. After we brought him back from Korriban we were all sworn to secrecy, and you know that we hold to our word. Palpatine kept him secret, too." Leaning closer he narrowed his eyes a fraction. "How did you know?"

"I -" She hesitated, unsure of what to say. If she told him the truth she might as well surrender to the New Republic. But he did not let her answer. 

"Very well. You secret is safe with me. I will see this as a debt you can pay off by telling me exactly what you know about Zsinj and Andorwyn, and Roganda Ismaren's plan."

Yana stared at him mutely. Perhaps it would be for the best if she followed his advice. After all, she had wanted to use Leia for that, albeit without Karrde's knowledge. Since that was no longer an option she might as well make the most of it. Pressing her lips together grimly she gave him a sharp nod. "I will help you," she said. Exhaling slowly Karrde smiled.

"Good."

But while they talked, comparing notes and observations, Yana Dar could barely keep her mind focused on the conversation. Her thoughts were drifting contrinuously toward the program Abla and Marten were working on back on Nar Shadaa. The program, and the fact that Roj Kell was, against her assumptions, alive. Alive. If she could find him, if she could convince him to cooperate with her ... The very thought was elating. And perhaps she even had the means to succeed. Only time would tell, though. So she would be patient for now, and wait and spin a new trap.

The assembly was not a grand one. Overseeing his assorted troop commanders Tious Markhan noticed the way each was studying the other suspiciously. The air was thick with aggressive potential, barely concealed ambition and pride. A pack of hounds for his purposes, but they were a bit too self-indulgent for his taste. Time to teach them a little lesson. The Grand Admiral rose from his seat quietly, and the crowd fell silent. 

"General Zi'Assime," he began softly. "Please step forward."

His second-in-command was a stocky man with a warrior's demeanor and a fervent mind. He neared the Grand Admiral's seat confidently, knowing full well that his position was secure, in contrast to those around him. Tious Markhan did not look at the general directly, but instead kept his gaze on the assembly. Zi'Assime's aide, a youngish man, was watching him anxiously. Only when the general stopped three paces away from did Markhan drop his gaze to look at him. A head shorted than the Grand Admiral Zi'Assime made up for his lack of height by his committment. He believed in the Empire, heart and soul. Tious let his right hand drop to the holster hanging from his black belt.

"I have heard disturbing news from Yaga Minor," the Grand Admiral told his second calmly. "Very disturbing news." The blaster left the holster in one fluid motion and a single bolt felled Zi'Assime's aide. Returning his gaze to the general's suddenly very pale face Tious smiled. "You will show Zsinj that to challenge me means certain death. You will hunt him down, and destroy him. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Bowing sharply Zi'Assime regained his composure quickly.

"But before you leave for Yaga Minor, my friend, you will bring me Admiral Tomas Piett. Set your best agents to the task. Now."

Zi'Assime bowed again, then turned on his heels and nodded at a young sergeant standing at the back of the crowd. Together they left the chamber. Suppressing a smile the Grand Admiral watched him go. When he had heard of Zsinj's betrayal he had been fairly furious. Andorwyn, too, had been deceiving him all along, it would seem, but he would deal with that one later. For now he had three objectives to complete. First, to capture Tomas Piett. The Admiral might be a traitor, but he was the only one who knew the Executor inside out, apart from the ship's crew and current commander, certainly. He would help them, should Irek Ismaren decide to attack. Second, they had to get the Princess back. It was imperative that she be brought to Nal Hutta, or else they could forget about luring the New Republic away from the borders. The third objective then was to gain control over Roganda Ismaren. 

With the little project on Nar Shadaa proceeding as planned nothing much could happen, really, except... Yana Dar had reportedly escaped Zsinj's troops. She would undoubtedly return to Nar Shadaa. Well, Abla Othana could take care of her. He relaxed a fraction, letting the commanders' reports wash over him. His plans were in no way endangered. The gamble with the Corellian would make certain that the New Republic would lose its trust in the Dark Lord, and the affair that was about to happen in Hutt Space would rip the government apart completely. 

It was almost ironic that Irek Ismaren would work into his hand by putting Thrawn out of commission. Excellent. Very soon this galaxy would learn who truly was in control. 

Jix preceded Mara into the small room that, according to the real-estate guy, was an apartment. A Chadra'Fan might find it acceptable, if he were willing to live without windows. Propping his hands on his hips the Corellian sneered at the interior. "I can't believe I paid three thousand credits for this hole!"

"Cozy," Mara purred, and lay an arm around his waist. "And it is just for a few days, until we have figured out how to get into Byss."

"Hey, that doesn't make it better. This is a trap in disguise"

"I don't think so." Scanning the room lazily Mara rested her chin on his shoulder. "Gaqui is too unimportant to warrant much troop presence."

"Oh, great. Which probably means that the communication that comes in and that could be useful for us equals zero. Right?"

She sighed. "Jix, don't be so pessimistic. We'll find a way. First we need to find out what official routes lead into Byss,and which unofficial routes."

"Good idea. Where do we start? Official or unofficial?"

"That's easy." Mara said with a smile. "You approach the unofficial sources, while I check the others."

"Sure, baby, whatever you say."

"Try again, Aves," Talon Karrde said tiredly, but he was pretty certain that it would be no good. They had lost all communications with the Executor and Niaruan. 

"No chance, boss."

"All right. In this case, establish contact with Coruscant."

"The Dark Lord or Mon Mothma?"

"General Page. He can brief the others." Best not to play politics right now. This was too important.

"As ordered, boss."

A few moments later they had a connection, but instead of Telmann Page they had his aide on the line. Talon Karrde frowned at the woman, who gave him an apologetic smile.

"Mister Karrde. A pleasure. Unfortunately the General is currently absent." In short, he was on a mission. "Perhaps I can be of assistance?"

"What about Admiral Piett? Is he available?"

"Currently, no. What is it about?"

"Everything, really. If the President will talk to me..."

"I will try to raise her. Hold, please."

The image dimmed down and Karrde leaned forward cautiously. "Aves, what about sensor probes?"

"Nothing yet." 

"Good." Perhaps Zsinj had other things to do than sweep the area. The news they carried was vital, and Obroa-skai was too far away, so they had dropped out of hyperspace at Gaqui.

"Mister Karrde." Mon Mothma said tiredly, dark rings circling her eyes. She did not seem to have slept well. "The transmission is encypted."

"We will run a second encrypt, if you don't mind."

"Of course not. What news?"

"Mostly bad, I fear. The Minister of State is currently an Imperial prisoner."

"Where?" she asked coolly. 

"Yaga Minor."

"Excellent. Han Solo is headed there. Perhaps we can reach him."

"I am sure Leia would appreciate it," Karrde said with a smile. "More bad news: we have lost communications with the Grand Admiral, which is really bad news."

"Would you explain, please?"

"The Princess was kidnapped by a woman named Roganda Ismaren. Perhaps Lord Skywalker knows her. She has a son, Irek Ismaren."

"I remember her. She was one of Palpatine's concubines. The son, is he - ?"

"Presumably yes. "

Exhaling slowly Mon Mothma closed her eyes. "Lord Skywalker spoke of a disturbance in the Force. He assumed it was Roj Kell. Could it have been Ismaren?"

"It was him."

Her eyes snapped open again. "How do you know?"

"Yana Dar told me."

"Yana Dar? Is she with you?"

"No. She is returning to Nar Shadaa. Apparently there was some trouble at her base. Roganda plans to have her son take control of the Executor. I have reason to assume the ship's been malfunctioning for the past few days, due to Ismaren's manipulation of the ship. The fact that we've lost all contact now could mean he has succeeded partly. They cannot be at Niaruan yet, though."

"Take control of the Executor? What for?"

"The plan is to have the ship attack the New Republic. Your troops would be caught up in chasing her down and you can imagine that this would create the perfect opening for the Empire to strike back at you."

"So this was what Lord Skywalker meant," she mused aloud. "Any news on the Ryloth business?"

"Yes. The Imperial warlords are trying to goad you into attacking Nal Hutta."

"But you just said that the Executor was meant to tie up our troops!"

"Ah, that is the good news," Karrde smiled. "There are some differences between the court and the military. Two plans, and both might succeed."

Mon Mothma nodded grimly. "Very good. I will call a meeting for tonight, and will discuss this information with the Senior Analyst and Lord Skywalker."

"All right. You have my account, I assume?"

"Do not worry, Mister Karrde. You will be recompensed accordingly. Thank you again for your assistance and loyalty. Both are rare traits these days."

"I am honored. One last question. What is General Page up to?"

"He has some business on Ryloth to attend to."

Grand Admiral Thrawn stormed into the emergency center they had established in the base to accomodate the personnel Parck had assigned to assist Cronn. "Which decks?" he asked briskly.

"Six to eight. All live support systems went offline for four hours and the decks were locked, so no rescue was possible."

"Casualties?"

"Twenty. We were lucky there, sir."

"Twenty too many, lieutenant. Technical personnel again, I assume?"

"Yes."

"What did Cronn report before communications ceased?"

"He said you are to classify this as an attack. Those aren't malfunctions. Sir." The lieutenant sounded somewhat shaken. "He said it might be best to shut the ship down."

"Was that what he said? Really?" the Grand Admiral asked coolly.

"No, sir. He said you should destroy the ship."

"Self-destruct." Voss Parck had joined them with a three-minute delay. "It might be our only choice, sir. If that ship falls into the wrong hands-"

"I can imagine the consequences, thank you. Especially since everyone knows that I command the Executor." What was worrying him far more though was something else. Whoever was attacking them made a point in eliminating the technicians and mechanics, anyone who might be used to counter the strikes. They were trying to take the Super Star Destroyer out of commission, cripple her. Yet that was not all. The 'malfunctions' had been too much like someone testing the different functions of a new toy, like a child playing with a model spacecraft. Cronn was right. If they wanted to exterminate all risks they had to destroy the ship. But then he thought about the findings he had made in the Unknown Regions, and knew that he could not give up the ship under these circumstances. "It requires my presence on the ship to initiate the sequence," he mused aloud. "The mechanism is keyed to my DNA."

"Sir?" Voss Parck regarded him in bewilderment, but gradually revelation dawned in his eyes too. His mouth dropped open. "No!" 

"They have chosen the ground, Admiral," Thrawn told him firmly. "We must meet them there."

"I will see to making preparations right away." 

"Do that. Lieutenant, once communications is online again tell Cronn to have all technical personnel evacuated. If they want them they'll have to attack the base."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Squinting at the tiny green speck on the radar that was the Executor Thrawn frowned slightly. Cronn had said that it was impossible to control a ship through the Force, but then, Ysalamiri were supposed to render the Force neutral. Perhaps there was more out there they did not know yet. "Prepare the base's defenses and set the troops on red alert. Captain Palleon is to move the fleet into a defensive ring. Now."

Seated in his chair of office Syndic Bal'maw'narda wore a grave expression on his aged features. He regarded Luke and his friends with a calm gaze that made the mood even more somber. At the young Jedi's side Nuron was looking very uncomfortable, and he could sense her uneasiness like a cold beacon of uncertainty. After Naas Deron had filled them in on what they knew about the Unknown Regions and Wilde Space Luke understood why even Chi'in was at danger out there. The report had shaken him to the marrow, and out of sheer terror he had demanded that Chi'in obey the Dark Lord's orders and return to Niaruan. 

The moment he had uttered that demand, though, the Noghri's large black eyes' impassive gaze had flushed his mind with embarrassement. He had agreed to accompany Chi'in, and his friend had made it clear that their mission was important. The Sith Lord had stressed that again this morning. And he had said something else, something that was haunting Luke now. _The most important lesson a guardian has to learn is that sometimes you have to leave your loved ones behind, to prevent greater harm from happening._

Luke had understood, in a sense. He felt obliged to aid the New Republic, but Chi'in was trying to tell him that his responsibility went beyond that. As if it would not be enough! The strange events in Wilde Space had everyone on Almashin concerned, and with what Luke knew now they had every reason to worry, too. Chi'in wanted to go and find a way to stop a renewed advance of the invading troops. The problem was, that various groups had initiated attacks to test the Chiss' strength. Whoever had in turn blunted those foray attacks, though, seemed to have managed to scare those groups off. The question was, what for? 

"Niaruan does not answer our hailings," Syndic Bal'maw'narda was just saying, "and Commander Al'than'erudo reports increased movement in the Lieman Corridor." Luke had noticed before that the Syndic never spoke Thrawn's name. He always said 'Niaruan' instead.

"We must act now," Chi'in replied gravely. "I can sense it."

"I wonder, though, what you can truly accomplish," Bal'maw'narda countered.

The Noghri shrugged casually. "You must trust me on a hunch, I fear. If I can assess their troops we will have an advantage once they decide to attack in earnest."

"If they attack."  


"They will, I am certain of that."

The Syndic sighed. "Very well. You are committed. I wish you well on your mission. Return to us soon, though, before we cut off the Corridor."

"We will obey, Syndic." Bowing sharply Chi'in gestured toward Naas Deron. "Deron will remain behind to assist you directly, should the need arise."

"Thank you."

They left the council chamber quietly on the Noghri's heels, but Luke quickened his pace to catch up with the alien. "What are we going to do?" he asked softly.

"Just what I said. Assess their troops."

"Have you been into their territory before?"

"No. They send foray parties, but I believe they do not come from this galaxy."

"How is that possible?"

"I have no idea. The only thing I do know is that they are invisible to the Force." Chi'in shook his head slowly. "I wish I knew more."

"Yeah, I know that feeling."

Looking up at him sharply the Noghri glared. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Nothing." Holding up his hands in a defensive gesture Luke realized that his friend was more on edge that he let on. It was an unsettling discovery. "It is just that I believe that we need to know much more."

"That is why we are going to team up with Commander Al'than'erudo. He knows the Lieman Corridor inside out."

Luke pursed his lips pensively, unsure of whether he should ask the question preying on his mind or leave it be. In the end Nuron relieved him off that dilemma and joined them, saying:

"You should have told the New Republic about this, Chi'in."

"No."

"Why not?"

Chi'in gave the young Jedi and Sith a level look. They had no idea what he suspected. Neither had Thrawn any clue what he was up to. It was a risky gamble, he knew, but he was also aware of the fact that the fate of the Chiss teetered on a knife's edge. By not telling them he avoided having to disappoint them, should his venture fail. There was a small world in the Lieman Corridor, charted as SAO-209404, which was not unknown to the Chiss. That was the one he had to reach under any circumstances, before it was too late. Perhaps now was indeed the time to let his companions in on that little secret. 

"Come. We need to hurry," he told them and took off at a brisk walk toward where the Ardana Ver was berthed. He could sense their confusion easily, but Nuron for one seemed more determined than confused. She was ready to face any danger that might arise, contrary to Luke. Ah, the boy was still far too innocent and not well versed in the ways that this galaxy worked. An idealist.

His ship, the Ardana Ver, was a small yacht bristling with weoponry and powerful shields. Chi'in had even been able to acquire a cloaking device, which was very useful against the enemy they were about to face. The Noghri settled into the pilot's chair and strapped in, with Luke acting as co-pilot. Nuron took a place behind her lover, and all of a sudden Chi'in found himself reminded of a similar situation. Back then the Dark Lord had taken him and Nuron off Korriban and sent on separate missions. The Noghir had infiltrated Niaruan to gather information about Thrawn's motivation in the battle to come, while Nuron had been assigned to a kill. 

It had been a test the Dark Lord had submitted her to, to let her loose on Wayland and bring down the guardian Palpatine had left there to protect his storehouse. Germyne Urian had not been Force-sensitive, but an unpredictable foe and warrior. In the battle against him Nuron had had a hard time controlling her temper, and had been captured by the guardian. Only by embracing the Dark Side fully had she managed to accomlish her objective, yet it had been pure fury that had aided her, not the calm calculation of a true warrior, that the Dark Lord had wanted her to observe in her enemy. Somehow Chi'n believed that this time she would be better prepared. 

The Ardana Ver gained permission to lift off and as the landing clamps reelased the ship Chi'in felt strangely elated. It was all or nothing now. On their way to the jump-point the trio was very silent, each pondering the mission ahead. Luke calmed down a bit, to the Noghri's relief, and Nuron relaxed, too. Finally they made the jump to lightspeed, headed for Wilde Space. Swivelling his chair around Chi'in faced his two charges calmly. 

"I told you that Grand Admiral Thrawn was exiled a few decades ago for initiating a preemptive strike against a possibly dangerous race in the Unknown Territories."

"You also said his suspicions were justified," Nuron supplied quickly. He nodded at her and continued more gravely:

"At that point of time, I believe, he was indeed right to assume that this race might endanger the Chiss. As it was, their extermination was a tactical error of grave consequences."

"In what way?" the Zabrak asked, her golden eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"The Jem'luz,as they called themselves, were a warrior people, and, as I personally believe, deeply religious. Grand Admiral Thrawn has studied their artefacts at great lengths, but he admitted to me that they rendered no clues as to the way they thought."  


He saw Luke grimace ever so slightly. Just like his father, the young Jedi did not think much of the Grand Admiral's claim that a species' art forms could deliver the key to that species' mind. It certainly gave enough information about their culture, and deducing from there was easy, especially if one were blessed with a mind like Thrawn's. 

"How so?"

"The Jem'luz were a primitive race before, about five hundred years ago, they were discovered by an old friend of ours. Roj Kell." Nuron stared at him, and Luke looked slightly awed. "I did not have the information I have now, but it would seem that his apprenticeship to Exar Kun yielded his obsession with shaping other people's lives. His master though did not leave it at that. Like Naga Sadow, Exar Kun experimented with more primitive races, in his case the Massassi people of Yavin 4." Chi'in paused briefly, his dark eyes taking on a farway look as he gazed inward, at the reasoning he had laid out for himself. "I am certain that Kell did something similar with the Jem'luz. What exactly he did, that I hope to find out in the Lieman Corridor."

"Why?" Nuron asked sharply. "Why are they so important? They are extinct, as you just said, and you still haven't told us what error Thrawn made by eliminating them."

"I have been to the Jem'luz' homeworld once, and almost perished, before I could gather more information. What I do know, though, is that they stood guard against the people that is about to invade our galaxy now. The Jem'luz called them Zush'Jem, which is a derivation of two Sith words, and roughly translates into 'Foul People'. The Zush'Jem cannot be felt through the Force, and they use living beings for absoloutely everything. Their ships are semi-sentient, as well as their armor and weapons. I have fought them, and I am telling you that we cannot let them get out of the Unknown Territories. And I dearly hope that the key to defeat them did not perish with the Jem'luz and Roj Kell."

Luke looked at him pensively. "What does Jem'luz mean?"

"'Jem' for 'Jen', which means 'people', and 'luz', which is the Sith word for 'life'," Chi'in explained. " The 'People of Life', they were called."

"People of Life," the young Jedi repeated," sounds like guardians to me."

"The only thing Kell ever thought worth guarding was his ego," Nuron sneered coldly. "I cannot believe he would ever do something so selfless."

"Perhaps you should consider that Roj Kell never thought his actions selfish," Chi'in reminded her quietly.

"And there you have the evidence of how limited his vision truly was." Tossing her head angrily the Zabrak let her full lips peel back into a feral snarl. "No, Chi'in, there is something else behind this. I hope it does not stab us in the back while we are looking the other way."

TBC


	9. Chapter 8 - One on One

****

Chapter 8 – One on One

It was not very common for a Chief Security Advisor to conduct such a possibly perilious mission personally, but Telmann Page had wanted his best man on the case. Getting to Ryloth had been easy, perhaps a bit too easy. The Dark Lord had had made his plans plain, though, and it was clear to everyone in the government's defensive section that they needed to know how the events on Ryloth and Nar Shadaa fitted together. Skywalker had voiced his doubts in Yana Dar's supposed allegiance to the Empire, although he had not questioned Page's information on Abla Othana. Yet the General could not quite believe that an information broker as seasoned as Yana Dar would fall for an Imperial agent's tricks. What if she knew about Othana's loyalties and used them for her ends? What if she, too, was aiding the Empire? Information was the key to gaining an edge over their opponents, the Dark Lord had stressed, and everyone else had agreed, naturally. You did not reject common sense in favor for wishful thinking. 

Unfortunately Telmann Page had a feeling that the only one who had any clue as to what was truly going on was that damn Sith. He had not made personal acquaintance with Roj Kell, for which he was endlessly grateful, but he knew enough by now to thoroughly distrust anything the man did. Now, though, as he stalked along the busy corridors of Kala'uun to meet the Twi'lek agent Skywalker had deployed previously to his arrival, the General realized that he had only this lead, except for Haman himself. As far as his agents on Nar Shadaa had been able to determine the scheming Twi'lek was still on Nal Hutta, with his master. What was Haman waiting for? A signal from Ryloth, or the Empire? Mon Mothma had made it clear that she did not want the Hutts to extend their territory, which seemingly coincided with Kell's own objective here, but the Dark Lord had warned them that the man rarely said what he truly wanted to achieve. A shame, really. He would have to check on every single being that had come into Kala'uun during the past week. Not an easy task, and it would take time. Hopefully not too much, though. Once the Imperial remnant made its move they would need to be prepared already.

Belana Jen smiled at her companion fondly when he turned to face her with a triumphant smirk on his face. Crouching in the shadows of the Council Chamber Kell was completely invisible to the eyes of the five Twi'lek and one human occupying the room. The human wore an Imperial navy uniform, and was talking to the five aliens urgently. 

"... must not suspect anything," he was just saying. 

"The Hutts will certainly not learn anything from us," the Twi'lek seated in the middle of the ring of chairs answered gravely. "Neither will Haman betray your hand in this."

"Timing is crucial. You may not act before the Princess has been safely delivered to Nal Hutta."

"Of course, General."

Signaling Belana to follow him Kell left the chamber as silently as he had entered it. Back in the narrow corridors of the city he shook his head with a disgusted grimace. "I have heard enough," he announced. "Who would have thought that the _Empire_ is behind this!"

"Well, you obviously did not," Belana said sweetly.

"Indeed. So, Haman's rebellion will come at a most inopportune moment for the Hutts, namely when the New Republic navy descends on Nal Hutta. Ah, a truly devious plan. I had wondered why the Empire would deal with those bloated slugs at all."

"And what will you do now?"

"I will force their hand. If my own little rebellion starts now, Haman will have a lot to explain to his Imperial contact. Joral knows too much, though. To not lose face the Empire will have to come to the Hutts' aid. If they don't, all the better."

"Let me summarize the situation: The Imperials deal with Haman and Joral, supposedly exclusive deals, and promise both assistance. The Hutts will draw the New Republic's wrath on themselves for the Empire and will in turn be betrayed to the New Republic by their allies. Far too complicated and risky. Whoever thought up such a stupid plan?"

"Apparently someone who thinks pretty highly of his strategic skills," Kell said with a tiny smile. "Once the Hutts move into Ryloth they will have other things to do than wait for the Princess to arrive. And I can take the time to tell them exactly who betrayed them."

"What about the Twi'lek?"

"What about them? I already told you that I will not help them get out of this."

She nodded glumly. "And you know exactly that I do not approve. You promised to follow me in such matters, remember?"

"Of course I remember." He lowered his head ever so slightly and shifted his stance unconscioulsy into a defensive posture. Belana sighed. Sometimes he could be as stubborn as any Corellian. 

"Then you will heed my advice. I want you to tell your allies what they are facing. Let them decide if it is worth the risk."

"Belana, if they believe it useless - "

"You can always tell Joral that the Empire is seeking to betray him. You'd achieve almost the same that way."

"All right. I will do as you say. Just this once, mind you," he added indignantly. Belana patted his shoulder and just smiled. 

The Ardana Ver did not remain in hyperspace for long. Two days after leaving Almashin Chi'in let the ship revert into realspace, and immediately they were swarmed by Chiss fighters. Luke's hands jerked toward the control panel in a reflexive gesture, but the Noghri kept the ship on course calmly. 

"Sharp, aren't they," the young Jedi commented. He should have felt something, shouldn't he? But there had been no surprise from the fighter pilots, no sudden determination, nothing to warn him. To his shame he noticed that Nuron had remained in her seat, a cool expression fixed on her beautiful face. In so many ways she was far more adept than he, and still she was looking to him for teaching. It seemed ridiculous, sometimes. She had noticed his look and smiled at him fondly, before she leaned forward to lay a soothing hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you are not used to not being in control of such a situation," she said softly," but you can trust our abilities here, too."

Throwing Chi'in a panicked glance Luke returned her expectant gaze with a slightly bewildered expression. "I _do_ trust you. Both of you. But you are right. I would feel more comfortable if I were in charge of my X-wing or something. Just sitting here... It is unsettling."

"Trust is important, Luke," the Noghri commented. "Without trust you will always strike out at others, suspect them of cheating you. It is no good life to live that way. It is an empty life. Yet trust in yourself comes first."

"I know," the young Jedi answered in a quiet voice, feeling like a schoolboy.

"The Shooting Star is hailing us," the Noghri said suddenly, ignoring him once more

Up ahead a Star Destroyer loomed into view. The fighters escorting them over to the warship split into several groups, and then the Ardana Ver made the last part of the voyage alone. Chi'in guided his ship into the open forward hangar deftly and settled it onto the deck with great skill. There was seemingly nothing the Noghri did not excel at. Luke quelled a hint of envy in his heart and followed Nuron out after Chi'in. As they left the ship he noticed a Chiss waiting for them. He gave Chi'in a sharp nod and Luke thought that the man's jaw almost dropped at seeing Nuron. Suddenly he looked angry for some reason, but did not say anything.

"Commander Al'than'erudo is expecting us," Chi'in explained, apparently oblivious to the other's reaction to his companion.

"Yes. We have been notified of your arrival, Master Chi'in. Please follow me."

They were guided to a turbo lift nearby, that led straight up to the lower bridge of the huge ship. Luke had been on enough Star Destroyers not to be overly awed by the sheer size of the warship, but there was a thrill in being here, now, with what Chi'in had revealed to them previously. Their nameless guide led them toward a small conference room and opened the door.

Luke almost felt his eyes pop out of his head. The Chiss standing next to a holo star chart was easily the most magnificent being he had seen so far. Dressed in a dark green uniform he was almost as tall as Father, with a slender, wiry frame and perfectly proportioned limbs. His pale blue skin seemed almost translucent, and made him seem soft despite the blue-black hair he wore in a severe crew cut. His glowing red eyes regarded the newcomers with utmost attention.

Commander Al'than'erudo, for he could be no other, had the same calm presence Chi'in conveyed, but even more mature, and an aura of absolute command that Luke had last experienced with Father. There was nothing dangerous about his appearance, though, only the quiet competence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and where his actions were aiming at. It took Luke another full second to realize that the Chiss commander was Force-sensitive. Untrained, but the potential was undeniably there. 

"Master Chi'in." Al'than'erudo spoke a flawless Basic, and his voice was a pleasant tenor. "It is an honor to have you with us."

The Chiss who had brought them here left noiselessly, as if in response to an unspoken command. Nodding at Luke Al'than'erudo smiled ever so slightly. "Your companion?"

"His name is Luke Skywalker. A Jedi Knight."

"Ah." The Commander nodded knowingly and drew back a chair to sit down. Luke noted with rising anger that Chi'in had not bothered introducing Nuron and that Al'than'erudo had ignored her completely. He could sense that she was equally confused and indignant, and he made a point in drawing a chair out for her first, before sitting down himself. The older men took no notice, though, and were already immersed in a quiet conversation. 

"...is disturbing news," Al'than'erudo said. "If they can pass our defensive lines we must retreat and draw our troops together in a tighter net. Especially since Niarun is seemingly facing other problems"

"I agree," Chi'in nodded. "Yet I would ask you to act as escort on my mission. I know this is much to ask, but we could benefit greatly from this endeavor."

"Where do you need to go?"

"SAO-209404. You know the world."

The Commander inhaled with a sharp hiss. "Indeed I do. You will need more than just a ship to cover you down there."

"I had rather hoped you could expend some ground troops."

"What is your plan?"

"On my last visit to the planet I did not manage to get further than the third quadrant of the labyrinth. It is imperative that I gain data of all six quadrants, though."

"How so?"

The Noghri unpacked a datacard from his belt and stuck it into the reader in the middle of the table. The star chart was replaced by a maze of lines that made up a structure, or part of it. The labyrinth, undoubtedly. "I have compared this to the Massassi temples on Yavin 4. The design is similar, yet very different. Undoubtedly it is a focal point for the Force, but to understand how it works I need to explore the labyrinth fully."

"Then you will truly need more than just one Jedi Knight. No offense, Master Skywalker."

"None taken," Luke replied rather coldly, "but he has more than myself to call upon."

"With all due respect," Al'than'erudo said, his smile as infuriating as his failure to acknowlegde Nuron even now. "She is female."

Before Luke could find a suitable retort Chi'in lay a hand on his forearm cautiously. "This world is very dangerous, Luke, I already told you that. Commander Al'than'erudo is merely pointing out that a female might not be able to stand the stress. You know Nuron better than that. He doesn't."

"In our society females do not take up weapons," the Chiss explained, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with the Zabrak's fiery gaze.

"Cultural differences," Chi'in said with a shrug and let go of Luke. "Rest assured, Commander, that I will not leave her behind."

"That is your business, of course."

"Indeed."

"Very well," the Chiss nodded. "We will escort you, but we cannot neglect our duties either."

"We understand. Thank you, Commander."

As it was their trip ended just a few clicks form the Shooting Star's previous position. It was Chi'in again, who ordered the Chiss fleet to drop out of hyperspace prematurely and into a deserted battle-field. The Noghri had told Luke and Nuron about these graveyards that littered Wilde Space and the Unknown Territories back on Niaruan, and with what he knew now the young Jedi wondered who could be behind this. 

"This was not here a week ago," Commander Al'than'erudo announced as they stood side by side at the forward viewport of the Star Destroyer's upper bridge.

"Whoever is behind this is lighting signal fires," Nuron growled from behind him and this time the Chiss turned his head to face her directly.

"What do you mean?"

Luke could see the discomfort in the Zabrak's eyes at the unexected attention she was getting from all three men. Even Chi'in was staring at her. "I – It was just a thought," she managed, but the Commander's glowing red eyes demanded a real explanation. Straightening to her full height she gestured toward the ship wrecks floating sadly through space ahead of them. "It stands to reason that some groups will treat this as a warning and heed it, while others will take it as provocation and attack in greater numbers. If we had the data on the other battle-fields we might be able to assess which groups exactly fell victim to our unexpected benefactor. Perhaps it is the Zush'Jem, who move every other obstacle out of their way before attacking the Chiss. It would make sense, from a certain point of view," she added somewhat defensively. 

Al'than'erudo nodded sharply. "A valid point. I will send out a team to recover samples from the wreckage." He gave Chi'in a long look. "Master Chi'in, is something wrong?"

The Noghri seemed lost in thought, but the Chiss' question got his full attention immediately. "What?"

"I was asking if there was a problem," Al'than'erudo repeated slowly, watching Chi'in as if he would a stranger. Indeed, the short alien was acting totally different from his usual calm and composed self. Something must be bothering him greatly. 

"Cronn reported that he could not sense anything of those battles, that there were no residues in the Force to give any clues as to what happened out there," Chi'in began softly. "I have been wondering about this, but Nuron has just stated the obvious. The Zush'Jem have already advanced into the Unknown Territories. And if I recall the last site of destruction found there correctly, they are about to attack Niaruan. It has to be that."

"Why did they not attack Almashin first, then?" Luke asked, confused. If the Chiss were the primary target, it would make sense to attack their homeworld first.

"We have powerful defenses, but we also are dependant on what resources come through Niaruan," Commander Al'than'erudo explained quietly. "If they attack the base first, and perhaps even manage to defeat the troops stationed there, we will be cut off from our reinforcements." The Chiss gave the Noghri another stern glance. "Under these circumstances I deem it impossible to continue your mission. I must gather my troops."

"Of course," Chi'in nodded. "I will send warning ahead to inform Syndic Bal'maw'narda, and another warning to Niaruan."

"But we've lost communications with – " Luke began, and earned himself a glare by the Noghri.

"Indeed. Which can mean two things. Either the Zush'Jem have already attacked them, or else there is another problem."

When Commander Al'than'erudo spoke again his voice was very grave. "Return to Niaruan and find out what has occurred there. Send back a report as fast as you can. We depend on you."

The Noghri bowed sharply. "We will be as swift as the starlight," he promised.

"Shuttle number 12 is off," Cronn announced coolly from where he was bent over the radar screen a little off from the Grand Admiral's command chair. Confirming the report on his own display Thrawn nodded in satisfaction. 

"Excellent. All tech teams are off board and Captain Palleon is in position."

"Sir, with all due respect, but that leaves us helpless against those Force-induced attacks."

"They will attack in any case, Cronn," the Grand Admiral told his second patiently, " and our technicians have short-circuited the remote control unit. They will have to face us here, should they truly dare."

"We have not been able to determine if the remote was used to cause the malfunctions," Cronn reminded him quietly.

"No, but I can assure you that it takes a machine to handle a warship this size. The processes required to make it work are beyond the mind of any species that exists in this galaxy."

"A cyborg might manage."

"That cyborg would have to have a head-implant the size of the shuttle that just left." Thrawn smiled thinly. "If they want to have this ship they will have to get past Palleon's fleet. We are the bait in this trap, Cronn, nothing more. It is natural that you feel vulnerable in such a situation, but it would take more than skill to defeat this array."

"If you say so, sir." There was a tiny flicker on the radar, and a split-second later the Falleen announced: "Here they come."

An instant later the Star Destroyers surrounding the Executor launched score upon score of TIE fighters to intercept the approaching ship. The Grand Admiral called up a close-up of the enemy and arched his eyebrows in surprise. A YT-model Corellian freighter, a bit newer than the Millennium Falcon, but not by much. What was this? An insult?

Suddenly the TIEs broke formation and split up. Twisting his lips in disapproval Thrawn leaned toward the display, trying to figure out what was happening out there. "Captain Palleon, report."

"The fighters are malfunctioning, sir." A look at Cronn confirmed the suspicion arising in the Grand Admiral's mind.

"Have them stand down."

"Sir, I – "

"He's going to try to get close enough to the Executor to board her. By putting the TIEs out of commission he is depriving you of your maneuverability. Those freighters are agile, if they have the right team of pilots, as you should know, Captain."

"What do you suggest, sir?" Palleon asked quietly. For a few heart-beats the Grand Admiral watched the freighter's progress in silence. "Tractor beams?"

"Do it." Continuing his quiet study of the approaching ship Thrawn felt increasingly unsure of his course of action. The pilot could not possibly hope to get past the ships. Unless he had a diversion planned. "Cronn, can you sense any activity through the Force?"

The Falleen was frowning into the distance. "I believe he will try to counter the tractor beams, using the ship's maneuverability. Slow progress, but they could make it. If they manage to evade the Destroyers' cross fire."

"Give me a read on the shields."

Cronn whistled through his teeth in admiration. "Wow! They must have ripped out half the crew compartments to get that monster on board! Highly illegal rigging, but very powerful."

"I see. In the likely case that they manage to break through, I want a sufficient contingent of troops waiting for them."

"Yes, sir," the Falleen nodded and relayed the order.

Just at that moment a fleet of three giant warships dropped out of hyperspace and almost instantly space was alive with hundreds of smaller fighters. Grand Admiral Thrawn stared at the radar in disbelief. "Captain Palleon, cease your efforts on the freighter and reactivate the TIEs."

"Sir!"

"We will manage on our own, Captain. Protect the base at all costs."

Suddenly the lights went out and plunged the bridge in total darkness, before the emergency lighting kicked in. 

"We've lost communications again and the hangar decks have been cut off," Cronn reported in a maddeningly calm tone. 

Then the reddish glow of the emergency panels faded. Leaning back in his chair the Grand Admiral shut out the excited, frightened exclamations from his subordinates, keeping just as silent as his second, evaluating their situation. The Executor was dead in space, stranded in the middle of what promised to become a short and above all fierce battle, and presumably they were being boarded right now. All in all, he reflected, it could not have been worse.

Erinin gazed at the boy in some concern as he settled their ship down on the deck of one of the hangars. His face drawn and waxen Irek looked sick with exhaustion. He was sitting right behind Erinin and the co-pilot provided by Yana Dar. It rankled the bodyguard that Roganda had allowed the information broker to supply not only the ship, but also the crew. He'd rather have had a more reliable team. True, so far they had been pitch-perfect, but now that they were so close to accomplishing their first mission objective Erinin had to assume that Yana Dar's plans might be different from Roganda's. If that were true it would be Irek's decision how to proceed. Unfortunately the boy would need some time to recover from the onerous effort he had put into the attack.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, and Irek's blue eyes turned on him, a vicious sparkle in their depths. But gradually they softened again. 

"Just a bit tired."

"Then you stay here." Unstrapping his flight harness the bodyguard rose from his seat. "Shamesha will stay with you." The Weequay seated next to Irek nodded sharply. His species was not noted for its intelligence, but they were loyal enough, and above all strong. "I'll inform you once the bridge is secure, my lord."

"Thank you, Erinin," Irek answered weakly. 

"Are you sure we can take the bridge?" Toss Halan, the human co-pilot, asked suddenly.

"Yes. The only problem will be eliminating the troopers."

"The only problem!" Halan exclaimed.

"Don't whine and get the rest of the crew together. We are leaving." Erinin patted Irek's shoulder affectionately as he passed the boy on his way out. "When its safe I'll come and get you," he said softly.

As he left the cockpit Erinin felt strangely fearful. He knew what caused this reaction, though. Over the past eighteen years he had been the bodyguard of both Roganda Ismaren and her son. Irek was like a child to him, and not only because his master had ordered him to make any sacrifice necessary to prevent harm from coming to the boy. Having seen him grow up and having served both as guard and confidant to him, Erinin had developed a fierce affection for Ismaren. For the past eighteen years Roganda and her son had been the only family he'd had, and the boy even more so, since Roganda tended to treat the bodyguard like furniture. She had never appreciated her part in the Emperor's schemes, and she had made no effort at hiding that either. 

His master had made it clear that protecting Roganda was simply a necessity, but not the primary objective. Irek came above everything else. But the Emperor was dead. When Roganda had first begun spinning her plan Erinin had assisted her patiently, all the while wondering what exactly Irek's place had been supposed to be in the game. Too late to gain an answer now. So there was only one path for him to follow now, and that was to go wherever Irek pointed. He had no other purpose in life.

"We'll need a cutter to get through the blast doors," Halan told him when he entered the aft hold, where the others were already putting on their armor. Handing the bodyguard his own Toss Halan was watching him expectantly, still waiting for a reply. 

"The first two decks above the hangars are dead. We'll need environment suits to get through. Who is assigned for logistics?" Five assorted beings lifted various appendages. "Good. You take the equipment. Now get going. We have a tight frame here."

With two clicks the armor fastened around his ribcage, and he bent down to pick up the environment suit Halan had put out for him. The attacking warships had come as a surprise, but they would keep the Star Destroyers off their backs. Off course, the Executor was prone to being attacked herself, which was why he had to move his team up to the bridge swiftly. They needed to get out of here fast. 

"You are considering surrender?"

"As long as he's got control over the ship we have no choice, really. We are dead in space and a tempting target," Cronn pointed out reasonably. 

Giving his second a level look the Grand Admiral waited for a heart-beat. "On the other hand, if we can put him out of commission we can get the systems online again and intervene. He cannot have more than fifteen on his team.."

"They have split up. I can sense him, faintly, and there's another with him, but a weak mind, no Sith. The others are on the move. Twelve beings."

"All right. We do not have much time. General Pesh, communications with your troops is still possible, so we will send them out to scout. If a foray party spots the enemy they are to report in immediately, order reinforcements and engage the enemy."

"Yes, sir," the General answered swiftly and went to leave the upper bridge. 

"Cronn. You know your task."

"Yes, sir. If I may, you should not remain here unguarded."

"Time is of the essence, and we have to find their team as quickly as possible and eliminate it. No sense in wasting troops here. Nevertheless I will keep two squads at hand. Will you need support?"

"A commlink, to stay in contact. Apart from that I believe I will be all right," the Falleen said with a nod that was barely visible in the gloom permeating the bridge. 

They had been able to rig up some torchlights, but it wasn't much. Still, they had to make do with whatever they had. Cronn would eliminate the Sith, and once they regained control of the ship the odds would look much better for Captain Palleon's fleet. Another look outside confirmed the situation. The Chimaera and her five sister ships had been firmly wedged in between the triangle the three assaulters had formed around them. In space the TIEs and enemy fighters were engaged in desperate dog-fights.

The Star Destroyers were trapped solid, with no chance of escape. Although, perhaps there was one. When the Enforcer moved out of the defensive ring to begin the long dive out of the trap Thrawn smiled coldly. Captain Palleon was a most adept commander, no doubt about that. Once the Enforcer had put enough distance between herself and her sister ships the Star Destroyer could accelerate and perform a micro-jump that would put it at the attackers' back. Already the Hammerhead and Manticore were following the Enforcer's example while the remaining three ships increased their assault. Yet the enemy cruisers countered the renewed efforts with a spectacular volley of what looked like plasma bolts. Timing was indeed crucial. 

Leading his team toward the bridge swiftly Erinin ordered them to turn off the torchlights and wear the goggles he had provided. Undoubtedly the stormtroopers were using infrared to track their quarry down in the pitch-black darkness on the lower decks, and that made then vulnerable. Light bombs could blind them effectively, if they managed to take the soldiers by surprise. 

"Target ahead," Toss Halan announced suddenly. He was holding a small, portable heat detector in his hands. "Five signals."

"Leave this to me," Erinin told the others and adjusted his own goggles. The program Abla Othana had installed into them showed him the layout of the ship in the exact position he was in, which meant that he could find his way even in darkness, even though that meant he had to forgo infrared. Unlocking a bomb from his belt he paused at the corner the goggles showed him. He could hear the troopers now, the soft creaking of armor as they moved, almost on top of him. Throwing the bomb he waited for the explosion and darted around the corner, at the same time deactivating the program. In the after-glow of the light explosion he could see five shapes, throroughly confused, by the look of it, and his blaster made short work of them. 

"Way is clear!" Erinin called out and the others caught up to him, guided by Toss Halan. The swiftly reactivated torchlights illuminated the scene of destruction brightly.

"Use one of the head comms to jam their frequencies," the bodyguard ordered softly. Ripping the helmet off one of the downed troopers Halan set to work.

"Done," he said after a few minutes.

"Excellent. Now they can run around in the dark chasing shadows. Proceed to the bridge."

"Sir, they are jamming the headcomms," General Pesh announced, sounding slightly panicked.

"So, first contact has been made," Thrawn mused aloud. "How strong did you make the teams?"

"Groups of five."

"Five!"

"Sir, they are stormtroopers," Pesh started to argue, but the Admiral cut him off sharply.

"Should you survive this, General, you will be demoted. Perhaps you will enjoy service as a _stormtrooper_ more. It is certainly more fitting for your abilities. Sergeant!"

The stormtrooper sergeant clambered up from the lower bridge and threw an uneasy glance at his superior. Undoubtedly he had heard what Thrawn had just told Pesh. "Yes, sir?"

"They will attack the bridge next. Since we have lost contact with the other troopers I dearly hope that fifty soldiers can indeed hold their own against thirteen attackers."

Staring out of the viewport moodily he watched the Enforcer break apart under the merciless assault of the attackers. The Mandicore had managed to escape and was trying to engage one of the three enemy warships, but their fighters had drawn a tight curtain between the two opposing ships. The Grand Admiral almost jumped when six Star Destroyers dropped out of hyperspace and joined the fray immediately. Voss Parck must have alerted the patrols immediately and given them an exact layout of the battle. Perfect. Now the odds looked a bit more even. Rising from his seat Thrawn nodded grimly at the ships fighting for their lives around the Executor. Time to show them that the art of war lay in defense as much as attack. He walked past the very silent General Pesh and down to the lower bridge. The stormtrooper sergeant stood to immediate attention when he arrived. 

"Sir!"

"Sergeant Umeg, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have your men rig up more torchlights and erect a force-shield at the entrance. I want to see who we are facing."

"Yes, sir, at once.". 

Folding his hands on his back Grand Admiral Thrawn stood in silent anticipation. He was almost looking forward to receiving their 'guests' here. So far they had proven a challenge, and he had no doubts that their leader was an adept warrior. He would attack swiftly, trying to destroy the lightsources first. To do that he would have to break through the force-field first, though. A sudden, faint sound from the upper bridge made his ears perk up, and a small smile crept upon his lips as he turned around slowly. A most adept warrior, indeed. Had he remained in the relative safety of the upper bridge he would now be a prisoner. 

"Segeant Umeg," he said softly and the man stepped up to him with two brisk strides. His helmeted face was turned toward the upper bridge, too. "It would seem that the enemy has trapped himself. They cannot risk a fight up there, in case they hit vital instruments. It is a stand-off, I fear."

"Sir, what are your orders?"

"Turn off the lights. Now."

Erinin had been surprised that the Grand Admiral had seemingly left the bridge. He had assumed that, with the battle going on outside, Thrawn would want to know what was going on without endangering himself. They had eliminated the bridge personnel silently, using the element of surprise to their advantage, and he and Toss Halan was now crouching on opposite sides of the bridge entrance, with the others crowding behind them. Suddenly the lights went out on the lower bridge. 

"Attack!" he roared and launched himself down the ramp, a light bomb flying ahead of him. The explosion washed over him as he hit the first row of stormtroopers, but by then he was already too lost in the battle ahead to notice it much. Two troopers fell before a high kick sent him flying backwards. His unseen attacker moved lightly and his palm smashed against the bodyguard's neck hard out of nowhere. Erinin managed to grab the man's wrist and noticed to his own surprise that it was not armored, before a kick to his knees and stomach saw him reeling on the deck. Another kick at his face threw him on his back. Gazing upward, slightly dazed, Erinin mustered all his strength to rise again, Then the lights went on and he stared into the glowing red eyes of Grand Admiral Thrawn. 

A deafening roar filled the lower bridge all of a sudden and the alien turned away from Erinin briskly to determine the source of the frightening sound. Twisting around the bodyguard got to his feet and attacked again. But Shamesha was a step ahead of him. He gaped at the Weequay warrior in utter surprise. If Shamesha was here, where was Irek? Thrawn ducked underneath the giant alien's first blow elegantly, but by then Erinin had recovered sufficiently to set his blaster on stun and take aim. The stun bolt hit the Grand Admiral about the same time as Shamesha's other fist. Thrawn impacted against the bulkhead heavily and slid to the deck like a puppet. All around stormtroopers, the few that were left, struggled to gain the upper hand, but they were losing. Fifty trained soldiers were not that much, Erinin mused smugly. But the triumphant feeling faded abruptly when he became aware of the slender boy standing at a short distance. Irek's blue eyes were burning with a wild fire, and shadows seemed to be dancing across his young face.

"I could sense it," he said aloud, his gaze focusing slowly on his bodyguard. "I knew you would be in danger." Walking onto the lower bridge Irek ignored the battle dying down around him.

"I told you to wait for me," the bodyguard admonished him, a slight whine in his tone that surprised him. "This is too dangerous for you."

"Shamesha protected me well, Erinin." A tiny smile appeared on the boy's lips, causing the older man to drop his gaze in embarrasment.

"Of course, my lord."

The sudden silence that signaled the end of the fight caught them both by surprise. Looking up and around in bewilderment Erinin saw the others staring at him. Irek did not seem to notice their questioning glances. He stepped over the corpses of a few troopers over to where the Grand Admiral was stirring weakly. Dropping down on his haunches with predatory grace Irek reached out to touch the alien's forehead gingerly. 

"Wake up," he whispered softly, and in the uncomfortable silence his words sent shivers down Erinin's spine. Those glowing red eyes opened slowly, fluttering a bit as Thrawn regained consciousness. "Hello, Grand Admiral," Irek greeted him cheerfully. "Can you get up? Erinin, help him, please."

Being dragged upright by the bulky, one-eyed human, who had to be the leader of the attack group, he held his gaze fixed on the young Sith. He could be no one else. But if he was here, where was Cronn? Pain lanced through his body, his abused muscles and bones screaming in outrage. The impact had probably broken a few ribs, he thought, and indeed, breathing was difficult. Something about the boy was familiar, but he could not quite see what. 

"Who are you?" he managed at last.

"My name is Irek Ismaren," the Sith answered with a malvolent smile. "I believe you knew my mother."

The Ardana Ver had reached Niaruan three days after the enemy attack and now the remaining commanders were assembled in one of the base's meeting rooms in a war council. Heading the assembly was Admiral Voss Parck, whose position and rank made the choice obvious. Seated next to him was Captain Palleon and an entire row of captains whose names Luke would have to learn over the next few days, he knew. Amidst all those uniformed men he felt a bit out of place. Nuron was standing next to him, her face grim. Chi'in's expression was unreadable. He had just finished his report on what suspicions had overcome him in the Unknown Territories with Commander Al'than'erudo and now they were waiting for the discussion to begin. Not surprisingly it was Voss Parck who started it.

"I believe we managed to drive them back for now, but I do not dare deploy more ships on patrol duty. We are stretched as it is. From your report I deduce that the base is the primary target anyway and this is where our entire information and communications network is situated."

"No need to remind me," Chi'in replied coolly. "Yet we have to consider that they will slip past our defenses and into the known regions if we allow it."

"They will hit the Empire unawares," Captain Palleon mused aloud. "Perhaps that is not such a bad thing."

"I doubt they would leave it at that," Parck answered quietly.

"What abou the Grand Admiral?" Luke tried to not feel intimidated by all those eyes fixing in him. 

"His last order was to protect the base at all costs," Palleon reminded them. "I suggest this is what we take as our primary directive."

"Agreed," the Admiral said. "Once communications is online again I will contact Coruscant to gather more information. As much as it pains me to say it, we will have to treat Grand Admiral Thrawn as a casualty and the Executor as a potential threat."

"What about the Zush'Jem? They will attack again, and break through." Chi'in insisted. 

"Yes." Admiral Parck nodded gravely. "My suggestion, and one I have made to the Grand Admiral already, is to approach the Imperial remnant. Their resources could make a difference here. I am certain of that."

Luke bit back a gasp. So far he had always believed that the Chiss were their allies, exclusively, but just as Chi'in they seemed to have their own ideas on loyalty towards an ally. "You can't do that!" he exclaimed. "Politically this is the worst you can do!"

"I am not interested in politics, Skywalker," Admiral Parck snapped angrily. "I have an invasion to deal with!"

Seeking Chi'in's gaze Luke found the Noghri looking back at him pensively. "I understand," the young Jedi said at last. If he served life he could not let himself be restricted by politics. The Chiss needed help to survive, and right now only the Empire could grant that help. He almost smiled, when another thought formed in his head. If they succeeded in monopolizing the Empire's war machine the New Republic would be relatively safe and would be free to establish its alliances. He saw the same understanding in Nuron's golden eyes. A small smile was playing over her lips as he watched. Admiral Parck noted their approval with apparent relief.

"Very good. We do not have much time, so I would ask you, Master Chi'in, to contact Naas Deron and relay that suggestion to Syndic Bal'maw'narda. I would not want to alienate the court on Almashin in this."

"I will do that at once," Chi'in told them with a small bow and left.

"And who do we send to negotiate on our behalf?" Luke asked aloud.

"An excellent question." the Admiral smiled at him warmly. "I believe sending a Jedi would indeed be the impolite thing to do, and yet I want someone in charge of the base who knows how to defend it effectively. I cannot send Master Chi'in either, because of the Empire's known biases. I am open to suggestions. Do I hear any?"

"It should be an Imperial commander," Palleon explained, and for some reason he smiled at that. "Unfortunately the last war makes traitors of all of us. You, Admiral, are the only one who has a clean slate."

"Assuming the Empire does not remember my connection to Thrawn."

"I doubt they have seen through that at all," the Captain mused aloud. "No one knows why Grand Admiral Thrawn was really sent here."

Voss Parck nodded pensively. "You are right." Looking up suddenly he gave each of the attendees a hard glare. "Does someone have an objection to leaving Cpatain Palleon in charge? I for one was certainly very satisfied with his speedy response to the attack." A murmur of approval rose from the assembly. "Good. Then this is settled."

"Sir?" Luke spoke up tentatively. 

"Yes?"

"I would suggest taking a bodyguard with you. Someone who notices what cannot be seen."

"Yes. A good idea. Who do you suggest?"

"Puket."

He saw Nuron wince ever so slightly. "Is she experienced enough?" the Zabrak asked quietly. "Perhaps you should consult Chi'in on that once he is back."

In the end Admiral Voss Parck left Niaruan in a heavily shielded assault shuttle, since they could not spare a Star Destroyer. Chi'in had approved of Puket, knowing that the young Twi'lek was after all a fully trained Sith and adept fighter. While she might not have the depth and insight of a master she would take her post as the Admiral's guard seriously, and that was all that counted now. With Parck gone Captain Palleon made a commendable effort at securing the base, but Chi'in knew that, while fortifying the major target was certainly necessary, they could only gain an edge if they knew when the enemy would strike at Niaruan. So he found himself stowing supplies in the Ardana Ver's hold alongside Luke, and he could sense that the young Jedi was more than uncomfortable with his leaving the base now.

"Are you sure you don't want us along?" 

"Yes. Captain Palleon has other things to do than worry about diplomacy, and someone has to bridge the differences between the New Republic, the base and the Chiss."

"Was that why you introduced us to the Council of Syndics?"

"Yes." Chi'in dropped a heavy crate onto the deck and straightened tiredly to face his young friend. "Luke, I know that you feel led on, what with Parck leaving for the Empire and Thrawn gone, but sometimes you have to see beyond your personal horizon."

"I know."

"Good."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"Because I penetrated the Chiss' defenses once, and I know their weaknesses. It is harder to see those from the inside, as you should know. The commanders stationed out on the perimeter are competent, and I will not tell them what to do. I am just making sure that they are prepared for the onslaught if and when it comes."

Luke nodded somberly. "May the Force be with you, Chi'in."

"And with you."

Watching Luke leave the Noghri felt strange. He was leaving both him and Nuron in unknown territory, he knew, but they would have to learn to act independently sooner or later. He trusted Luke to make the right choices, and Nuron would also learn. Had to. Making his way to the cockpit pensively he thought about the Grand Admiral's disappearance, They could not be certain if the Empire had not been behind that attack on the Super Star Destroyer. Admiral Parck had told him of Thrawn's and Cronn's suspicions, though, and he tended to believe that they would have heard by now if another Sith had joined the Empire. 

Unbidden his thoughts drifted toward Roj Kell. The fact that he was still alive had come as a surprise, but surely the old man would never aid the Imperials. He had suffered too much under Palpatine, and although they might be more gullible than the New Republic government Chi'in doubted that Kell would think that a challenge worthy of his abilities. The Ardana Ver came to life and he listened to the ship engines' distant purr contentedly. One thing after the other. For now his sole concern had to be the perimeter defenses of Niaruan.

TBC


	10. Chapter 9 - Hunters

****

Chapter 9 – Hunters

"What news, General?" Leaning back in his seat Tious Markhan favored his second with a coolly stern glance, a reminder of what he expected of these news. They had better be good.

Zi'Assime nodded sharply, seemingly oblivious to his superior's mood. "My agents have located Admiral Tomas Piett on Rhinnal, and they have reason to assume that he will travel to Obora-Skai next."

"Obroa-Skai. That is dangerously close to our own territory. I assume this is a diplomatic voyage?"

"Not officially."

"I see. Anything else?"

"I have dispatched a team to apprehend him there and deliver him directly to Byss."

"Excellent. What else?"

"The project in Hutt Space. Sir, I know that Haman was supposed to initiate that rebellion and in turn was promised the seat of governor for Ryloth, but there has been some news-"

"I know." Markhan interrupted him curtly. "I wanted you to send a fleet to Nal Hutta to assist Joral. Have you done that?"

"Of course. What about Haman?"

"We can keep that asset for now, but as things are in the New Republc we can make use of a fleet in Hutt Space too, once the hammer falls. The Princess, unfortunately, is still in Zsinj's custody. How are your efforts proceeding in recovering her?"

"There may be a way. I will have to contact my agents on Yaga Minor."

"I remember that Joral sent Han Solo and this Calrissian to Yaga Minor. What are the chances that they will find out about the Princess and abduct her instead of Magrody?"

The General gave him a blank stare. Finally he nodded once more. "Yes, sir. I see what you mean. Perhaps it would be best to order Fett to eliminate both and assist my team in acquiring Magrody and the Princess at the same time."

"That may be advisable." The Grand Admiral clicked his tongue in exasperation. 

If Solo and Calrissian went missing his little scheme to discredit the Dark Lord would lose much credibility. On the other hand that was not as important as the Princess. He hesitated and mulled over that aspect some more. No, With the new information they had things had changed. Apparently some of the exiled councils had decided to counter Haman's planned rebellion. How they had learned of that scheme he did not know yet. Fact was, though, that they were running out of time. Their only chance was to quell that rebellion before it could start. For a second his eyes flicked up to meet Sarreti's gaze. The lieutenant was standing across from him, waiting. 

"General Zi'Assime, the troops you have dispatched for Nal Hutta will proceed to Ryloth immediately and reestablish the Empire's protectorate. Theoretically the planet still belongs to our realm, even if the New Republic sees that differently." 

"Sir, that would certainly prompt the New Republic government to respond, wouldn't it?"

"I am sure that it will. Nothing of the rebellion must get back to the government though. Arrest any agent of theirs you can find and neutralize them. Who is leading the assignment?"

"Captain Kuyan."

"Good. As for the rebels you will undoubtedly capture, they will be made an example of, A message to every single Twi'lek and to the Hutts."

"Understood, sir."

"Excellent. You will personally secure Yaga Minor and bring Magrody and the Princess to me."

"Yes, sir. What about Solo and Calrissian?"

"None of your concern. Thank you, General. That is all." Once the transmission had ceased he rose from his seat, prompting his aide to step forward. 

"Sir?" Sarreti asked quietly.

"How do you think that the New Republic will react?"

"An Imperial force moving into that sector would certainly have more weight than a simple rebellion and the Hutts' interference."

"Of course it is also the more obvious move. I doubt they will fall for the trap then."

"With all due respect, sir, why then did you give the order?"

"They will have to split their troops anyway. And even though I would much prefer the elegant solution I will settle for what I can get. It is a show of strength, and Mon Mothma knows that. This is a difficult time for them, and they can lose much now."

"Perhaps then she will be more cautious and not take unnecessary risks."

"No. If the New Republic does not interfere now they can forget abour acquiring new allies. And those they need badly, else Piett would not undertake that unofficial diplomatic mission. They will respond, undoubtedly. That's why we will have to have a very close eye on our dear friend Joral. The Hutts are powerful."

"Yana Dar always seemed to be getting along with Joral."

"Yes. She has a talent for negotiations. Which is why we need her." He gave his aide a cool glance. "Any news on Jixton and Jade?"

"No, sir. None so far."

"Very good. Yana Dar will join us soon, so I would have you break it gently to our moffs and governors that there will be some changes in the forseeable future."

"Yes, sir. I will be – diplomatic."

"As always. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Loya?" 

Striding into Raisa Tobyn's small apartment, that had been turned into his new headquarters, Anakin had a hard time suppressing a yawn. He had discussed Karrde's news with Mon Mothma and her staff for hours, deciding on a course of action, or at least trying to. In the end they had come to the conclusion that it might really be better to not interfere in Hutt Space, even though that rankled the Dark Lord immensely. He wanted to know what interest his old nemesis had in that particular area. Right now though he had to trust in Page and his agents to uncover Roj Kell's plans, and truth to tell, he doubted that the NRI would succeed at all.

"Loya!" he said again, louder this time.

The Devaronian, who was seated on a small couch by the window, jerked from his quiet dozing and fixed the newcomer in an annyoed glare. "All's well, boss," he growled.

"That's not what I asked. "Jerking his thumb at the human who lay in one corner, seemingly asleep, he continued: "What did he have to say on Yana Dar's plans on Coruscant?"

"Ah." Loya got to his feet tiredly. "Some interesting things. Have to verify them, of course."

"Sure. So?"

"She knew that Roganda Ismaren would kidnap your daughter, and I think she wanted to discredit Mon Mothma to get your daughter in her place."

"How and what for?"

"She had a slicer, Marten Anderland, plant false information in the Mainframe. At an opportune moment Mothma would have been implicated in the happenings and it would have looked as if she had initiated this particular scheme to make a grab for power. Man, I really hope you have finally found out what scheme that's supposed to be!"

"I believe she's goading the Empire into attacking us. Not an entirely convincing plan, though."

"I guess when people are running for their lives they don't stop to look over some manipulated files. They would have believed it."

"Yes, I think you are right," Anakin conceded. "Thrawn's supposed betrayal would have been the perfect excuse to attack the Imperial remnant and throw every single ex-Imperial commander we have in jail. Myself included."

The Devaronian gave him a wide grin. "Yeah, very true." He crossed his arms in front of his chest expectantly. "So, what are we gonna do?"

"The Imperial remnant is busily cooking up plans to bring the New Republic government down. They won't risk a war yet, though."

"Isn't that good news?"

"No, because they want us to take the first step, and we don't have that many resources left. We'd weaken ourselves if we took up the challenge."

"Then what are we going to do?" Loya repeated.

"The info Karrde gave us puts us at an advantage concerning the Empire, but I still wonder what Yana Dar's goal truly is. And, for that matter, what our old friend Kell is up to." 

Loya frowned at him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Try to gain as many facts about Yana Dar as you can. Any tiny snippet of information. I want her history, no matter what it takes. I'll introduce you to the NRI sources. They'll give you whatever you need."

"Okay. What about that guy over there?"

"He's going to detention. No need in letting him run around right now."

"Sure thing." Throwing him a mocking salute Loya went to pick up the recumbent form of Yana Dar's spy with ease. "I hope you know what your are doing, your lordship."

"I hope so, too," Anakin said under his breath as he watched Loya leave. 

Countering the Empire's plans would not prove a problem, that he was fairly certain of. Even if the Executor attacked, the Super Star Destroyer was far from invincible. It was an awesome weapon, certainly, but it also needed a good crew and a commander who could make efficient use of the ship's laser batteries, TIE squads and other defenses without losing track of the battle. Thrawn was such a commander, but Thrawn would not be in command of the ship. Or would he? Frowning slightly Anakin pondered that possibility for a moment and dismissed it again. There was no chance of the Grand Admiral helping Irek Ismaren in his quest, whatever that might be, not even under duress.

Far more worrying was his uncertainty considering Yana Dar and Roj Kell. Mon Mothma might have decided to not interfere in Hutt Space, but he was certain that the sector was bound to explode sooner or later. For some reason Talon Karrde had failed to uncover Yana Dar's scheme. despite having questioned her. The Dark Lord suspected that the two information brokers had struck a silent deal on that. For what reasons he would rather not know. 

The third problem to solve then was, of course, getting Leia out of Zsinj's clutches. He had sent an emergency message to the Millennium Falcon, but so far no one had answered, which was also slightly worrying. There had been no news from Jix and Mara either, which was no surprise, They would check back in once their mission was accomplished, if they managed that at all. 

So many uncertainties....

It had been easier back when he had only had to fight the Empire and the Sith. Granted, there had been some back-stabbing, too, but that had been well under his control. Mostly. The only one he had not been able to manipulate had been Roj Kell, and he had a feeling that he would not succeed this time either. 

"Telmann Page?"

Turning around with a suspicious glance the General lay a hand on his blaster carefully and nodded at the short Twi'lek standing in front of him. The alien's lekkus were tattooed and he recognized the pattern instantly. "Cesh Kendar?"

"Yes." The Twi'lek's shoulders sagged with relief and he gave Page a rueful grin. 

"Sorry. I am not used to this sort of thing."

"You mean spying?" 

"Yeah." Kendar threw a careful glance around, but there was no one close enough to overhear their conversation. 

The Twi'lek was one of Skywalker's new agents, and again Page had to admire the Dark Lord's insight. Sending a native certainly was more considerate than having the Chief Security Advisor run off into a danger zone. Not that he minded much. It was good to get out of his office again. He really missed the old days sometimes, and he knew that Admiral Piett for one felt the same way. He smirked ever so slightly, trying to imagine what horrors the Dark Lord must have gone through when Mon Mothma had dismissed him from her staff. 

"What news, Kendar?" he asked quietly.

"Let's go find someplace more private," the alien suggested. 

Following Kendar into another, narrower corridor the General kept a close watch on their surroundings, in case they had picked up a stalker somewhere along the way. The Twi'lek agent led him to a nondescript door, opened it and went inside. Once the General had joined him Kendar barred the door again. 

"What is this place?"

"This is where we are going to find out what Ryloth is facing," Cesh Kendar explained softly. "This is the back-entrance of a major eatery. Nothing fancy, but they have quite an extensive storage room, and people have been meeting there over the past weeks. A lot of people."

"And today they meet again?"

"Yes."

"Won't we stand out?"

"No. I have ... arranged matters." Page mustered the other with a level stare, and in the end Kendar gave a shrug and sighed: "It is a political movement of a sort. And I have joined."

"Ah. Excellent. But I am human."

"Won't be a problem. Lots of human traders on Ryloth. Come."

They hurried along the hallway, which was a bit too gloomy for Page's taste, and took an ancient elevator down, into what had to be the storage area. It was very quiet, a bit too quiet, perhaps. But once they exited the elevator again Telmann Page stopped short, his mouth almost dropping open in awe. The chamber they had entered was huge. Glow panels had been fixed to the high walls, and stacks of crates and freezing units had been neatly arrayed on sturdy shelves. Among them perhaps a hundred Twi'lek of all shapes and colors mingled, and an apprehensive silence filled the room, arrowing in on a bunch of crates that had been arranged into something resembling a stage. 

"Do you know what we will be discussing tonight?" he said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper.

"Some big decision," Kendar replied just as quietly. "An announcement, of sorts." Page noticed the slight hesitation in the other's tone.

"About what?"

"There's a rebellion afoot on Ryloth. Ot perhaps I should say counter-rebellion."

"What?"

"Apparently the Nameless have discovered that a Twi'lek is whipping up the masses to rebel against the Hutts. But it is against tradition. He does not belong to the ruling clan."

"The Nameless, that would be the ousted Councils?"

"Yes. they have lost their power and names, but they seem to still keep watch over their people." Now there was a hint of pride in Kendar's voice. 

"So, what do they want to rebel against?"

"The Hutts, of course."

"Eh? But you just said-"

"I said it is against the law, and besides, Haman wants to expel the ruling Council and rule himself, once the rebellion has succeeded."

"If it succeeds at all. Haman, you say? Isn't that Joral's majordomo?"

"Yes. A very ambitious one."

"Just like his master," Page hissed under his breath, but his eyes were tracking the progress of a hooded figure that had just exited the elevator and was making its way toward the make-shift podium. It wore a dark, brown cloak that hid its form effectively, but Page had a suspicion as to the newcomer's identity. "Who is that?"

"Never seen him before," Kendar answered, sounding slightly startled.

"Really? Then why is he here now, do you think? Let's go get a closer look."

Following her charge silently Belana Jen was quietly concerned. Quietly, because she was very careful not to let him know she was concerned; a difficult feat, considering how easy it seemed for him to pick up on her mood. She knew that he did not like this at all, that much was apparent in his bearing. When he stopped in front of the stage, waiting for the nameless councils to arrive, Belana took the liberty to scan the faces in the crowd idly. To her surprise there was another human here tonight, and he was heading purposefully toward Kell, pushing his way through the crowd with silent determination. A worried-looking Twi'lek male was following in his wake. 

For a moment the Jedi Master was unsure of what to do. She could either stop the man's advance or else warn Kell. But there was no telling what he would do to that unfortunate interloper. Drifting closer to the man she concentrated and winced when she found that it would be impossible to alter his intentions. He had his mind set. Well, she could hardly make herself visible and prevent him from getting to Kell bodily, could she? Luckily the councils saved the day and chose exactly that moment to make their entrance. 

Fifteen Twi'lek, three surviving councils from the daylight zone, their eyes cast demurely to the floor, were closing in on the dais. The others gave them a respectful berth, but then, the fifteen were shamed, and there was a nasty sort of respect shame demanded. Turning toward them Roj Kell pulled back the hood of his cloak, and Belana heard the man at her side curse quietly. Again she considered interfering, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed the slight frown that appeared on Kell's forehead. He had seen the human, too, now.

In awkward silence the three councils climbed up the three steps that led up on the stage, and Kell followed last. For a long moment there was silence, as the Twi'lek up on the stage gathered their courage and dignity. Belana could tell that her lover was getting impatient. Impatience and exasperation was about the closest he ever got to being angry, and that was probably for the best, or else the human scowling up at the Sith Lord would have been a tiny spot of grease on the floor by now.

"Friends," one of the councilors began hesitantly. "We thank you for your patience with us. We are not worthy of your attention, yet our news is. We just received the information today that the Empire is backing Haman up."

Belana heard some startled shouts from the crowd, and hushed conversations filled the chamber with a loud hum. 

"Please, hear us out." The councilor who had spoken previously held up his hands in a calming gesture. Once he had their attention again he threw Kell a hesitant glance, that the Sith ignored. "Our ... information goes further than that. Apparently the Empire will only act once certain events have taken place. If we make our move now they will not interfere."

Again there were protests and questions shouted from the assembly. Belana felt slightly uneasy, recognizing a mob about to break. This was madness! Why had she let him call this gathering at all? He could just as well have traveled to Nal Hutta and told Joral what exactly was going on. When the elevator started going up all of a sudden she knew why. Shock blossomed in her mind in an icy explosion. He had betrayed them! 

Moving through the panicking Twi'lek Belana steered firmly toward the stage, where Kell was holding his ground with a distant haughtiness and a very distinct air of command shielding him effectively. The three councils were staring at him, looking bewildered, shocked or simply dumb-struck. Only the other human kept his cool. He charged ahead and vaulted onto the dais easily. 

"Lord Kell!" he called out loud.

The Sith turned his head ever so slightly, but he did not seem to recognize the man confronting him. Just at that moment the elevator had descended once more, spilling a squad of fifty white-armored soldiers into the chamber. They opened fire immediately. Recognizing the danger the human hopped off the stage and sought cover behind the crates. He started making his way toward the elevator stealthily, but Belana doubted that whoever had ordered this raid would leave the only way out uncovered.

Returning her attention to Kell she glowered at him angrily. As she drifted closer his smile widened, and there was such a look in his eyes that she almost stopped. The last time he had looked at her like that he had killed her. 

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you do this?" He ran a hand over her cheeks affectionately, sending butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach, and cocked his head to one side to study her face. "You promised," she managed in a whisper.

"I know. But I could not let this chance pass either. Everything will be well, you'll see."

"Kell, if you think - "

He kissed her then, very tenderly. Meeting his clear green eyes Belana frowned at him fiercly. "Lleva su," he said softly. "Trust me."

She gave him a cold look. "No, my dear. This time you will trust _me_."

He did not know how he had managed to get out of the storage room, but what he knew was that he was far from safe. He had lost Cesh Kendar somewhere in the crowd, but Telmann Page was certain that any agent of Lord Skywalker could look after himself. Right now he was running alongside other fugitives from the raid, and they were heading purposefully toward one of Kala'uun's city gates. He doubted that it would be open, though. To his surprise it was. Just before he darted through he noticed a shadow lounging against the side of the entrance. 

"Page."

He stopped and peered into the gloom, trying to make out the man's features. Disengaging from the wall the stranger stepped forward and turned out not to be a stranger at all. 

"Better get out while you still can," Roj Kell said coolly and followed his own advice immediately. Page had to run to catch up with his long strides.

"People are dying!" he shouted after the Sith.

"They always do."

"You bastard! You are a traitor, you – you-!" Words failed him, and as he spluttered off into outraged silence the calm in Roj Kell's pale eyes filled his entire being. Floating in that vast sea of tranquility Telmann Page almost began to cry. He could not wait for an opportunity to capture the Sith and bring him back to Coruscant for judgement, that he knew. His only chance to blunt his plan was now. The utter calm he felt helped, and he forced himself to remain focused. Roj Kell sneered at him, a malvolent sparkle in his eyes. 

"You do not understand any of this, Page. And you should never have come here."

For a heart-beat the silence that hung between them became overwhelming. But then a volley of blaster bolts roared overhead, prompting both men to duck down and seek cover. Telmann Page, his blaster still firmly in his hands, did not hesitate at all. A single shot burned through the Sith's mid-section. The look he gave the General was one of utter disbelief, but anger replaced it quickly. 

"Fool!" Sitting down heavily on the ground Roj Kell shook his head as if to get rid of an annoying thought. Page moved over him instantly and pressed the muzzle of his blaster against the man's forehead calmly.

"As I see it they still have a chance to escape in the mountains. They don't need you for that," he said.

"You are an even greater fool than I thought, Page," the Sith growled softly, but then a cold smile appeared on his lips, and the light the General could see in the other's gaze was one of pure madness. "Whatever made you believe I wanted this rebellion to succeed? No," he continued in a hiss, "the Twi'lek will have to learn their lesson first. Only then their liberation can begin."

"I will never understand why Master Yoda let you live at all," Page spat and increased the pressure angrily. "I am leaving. We shall see what the Imps will do once they get their hands on you. They won't be gentle, that's for sure."

"You are making a mistake, Page."

"No. I don't think so."

"No? You do not believe I could fool the Empire just as easily as I have fooled you?"

Page's jaw dropped, but then his attention refocused on the battle. Damn! "What do you mean?"

"The Imperial forces stationed here to assist the Hutts will be cut off from their main force. They are doomed already, if you take the hint and ignore what is happening here."

"Was that your grandiose plan?"

"My plan, _General_, was to prepare this galaxy for the future. As we speak the Chiss are being attacked by an invading force. They will not be able to aid you. The Empire prepares to move against your borders and you sit here, playing petty games."

"How?" he asked, feeling icy cold.

"There are eyes and ears everywhere, as you should know. They have seen the death of the Emperor, and they will try to take you by surprise. I scared them off for now, but they will return. Already have, in fact. Needless to mention that the Imperial warlords have been panting for a chance just as this one. Yet they have no idea what is approaching at their backs." The ancient Sith Lord arched his eyebrows coolly, and Page noticed that the wound seemingly did not bother him at all. "Your New Republic has been drifting placidly toward meaninglessness, oblivious to the dangers that remained after the war. It is the nature of sentients to forget danger when it is not imminent, and politicians unfortunately are very inclined to indulge the people. What better way to rouse your spirits again than put everything you fought for in deadly peril? You _will_ fight, and you will survive."

"You are mad!" Page shouted, but the Sith Lord did not seem to have heard him. He was completely focused on the retreating rebels. "I cannot believe you managed that all on your own."

"Better believe it, General."

"You initiated a war," Page hissed viciously, the urge to kill the other right then and there becoming almost unbearable. "You sold the New Republic out to its enemies and certain doom."

"We shall see about that."

"Indeed we will." Grabbing the collar of the other's cloak Page hauled Kell up and pushed him ahead. "You are coming with me."

Turning his head around to look over his shoulder at him Roj Kell smiled slowly, and for a moment his eyes caught what little light there was, turning into icy mirrors. "Too late."

"What?"

"Freeze!" a stormtrooper's distorted voice barked at them and Telmann Page tensed all over, realizing that there was no way he could escape now. Damn! He glared at the Sith Lord furiously, but an icy shower of dread gushed down his back when he noticed the change in the other's expression. He was smiling. The man was mad, no doubt about that. Unfortunately it was far too late to change anything about that.

Hurrying across the dance floor, deserted at this time of the day, even on Nar Shadaa, Yana felt her heart beat faster as she closed in on her office door. Sharam was following at her heels, shadowing her mistress like the dutiful bodyguard that she was. Upon reaching the door Yana turned toward the Twi'lek, beaming all over her face.

"Wait here, please," she said softly and the other nodded in understanding.

Entering her office Yana felt all wound up, hardly able to stand the tension any longer. When she saw Abla sitting on the sofa, intent on the screen in front of him, her mind blossomed with fondness and love. She had missed him, she truly had.

"Abla!" she called, excitement making her voice tremble.

He looked up and a smile flashed across his features as he rose to welcome her. "Hey, baby," he said as he wrapped her in his arms. "You're back at last."

Not bothering to reply Yana started kissing him hungrily. "Did you – hm – confirm Marten's death?" she asked, slightly out of breath but loath to leave off yet. 

"Yes," Abla said, sounding very quiet all of a sudden. "Yana, I am sorry."

She laughed at that and took his head in her hands to give it a tiny shake. "Why should you be sorry for that? It wasn't your fault, after all."

Taking her hands in his gently he drew away and the smile faded from his face. "I did not mean Anderland, Yana."

"Then what – " she stopped, her mouth still open, when the back-door slid open and two stormtroopers came in, blaster rifles cocked. The sense of betrayal flaring in her heart was close to a tiny nuclear explosion. "Abla ..."

Letting go of her he took a step back. "It's for your best, baby. Really."

"Why? Abla, why did you do this?" she asked, her mind cooled by icy dread. 

"Markhan thought it best to leave the program to you, for a while. Now I am almost finished and he needs you on Byss."

"Tious Markhan? You are – " Shaking her head in disbelief she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. "You know the rules, Abla. You are a dead man."

He shrugged. "That is somewhat of a mute point now, Yana. Best make the most of it. You cannot deny your heritage any more than Irek can."

"Irek! Irek is a freak!" Yana screamed, outrage taking hold of her at last. 

"That's why the Grand Admiral wants you alive, and your brother dead."

"Half-brother!" she snapped. "Better watch out, Abla Othana. If i get the chance I will kill you personally."

"I'll be careful, then," he answered with a smile, then nodded at the troopers. "Take her away."

Somehow, Talon Karrde thought, he should have known. Seated in his command chair on the Wilde Karrde's bridge the information broker was smiling at his two guests pleasantly. They knew exactly that he wasn't overly thrilled by the prospect of infiltrating Imperial space, and yet they also were well aware of the fact that he would still help them.

"We would be immensely grateful for your assistance, Mister Karrde," Mara Jade told him expectantly, and what she expected was that he would agree to her request.

"You understand, don't you, that it is very dangerous for me to return to that particular part of our beautiful galaxy."

"We are not asking you to return to Yaga Minor, Mister Karrde. Not at all. And besides, you still _are_ in that particular sector of this galaxy. Which means you aren't too keen on leaving."

She had him bang to rights there, he had to admit. "Well. I suppose you have a plan on how to get into Byss?"

Jade snapped her fingers with a smile. "Jix?"

The Corellian gave a low grunt, awakened from whatever daydream he had been pursuing so far. Knowing Jixton, though, Karrde doubted that his thoughts had been very far from the task at hand. "He's right," the agent replied. "The Wilde Karrde isn't exactly unknown,"

Mara gave him a cool glance. "I know, Jix. But we have a plan, don't we?"

"Yeah." Looking straight at Karrde the Corellian nodded. "You know all the trade routes, and I daresay you know a few guys who could make the Byss run and not be questioned too closely. Does a name come up, maybe?"

"Offhand?" Pursing his lips thoughtfully the information broker swivelled his chair around and activated the ship's databank. "Byss. Not much industry, but they sure import a lot. There's got to be something ... " He paused and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "This is somewhat odd."

"What is?" Rising from her seat Mara Jade came over and whistled through her teeth when she saw what he meant. 

"Can someone perhaps tell me what is going on?" Wrenga Jixton asked in exasperation.

Turning his head slightly to face the Corellian Talon Karrde smiled. "There's been an unofficial announcement. The Empire has apparently invited every available bounty-hunter for a meeting on Dubrillion."

"Dubrillion? That's a long way off, " Jixton said, sounding doubtful.

"The meeting was scheduled a few days ago. I guess not many did attend, because, as you have spotted correctly, Dubriliion is not exactly close by."

"I wonder what task the Empire had for them."

"Yes, that's what I wonder, too. i will find out, don't you worry," Karrde promised them. "That does not exactly solve your problem, though." He hit another key and smiled. "Ah. Here's something for you. A transport from Nar Shadaa, stopover planned at Garqui."

Mara leaned toward the screen, frowning. "How did you get that?"

"Yana was very generous and let me have llimited access to one of her informant's databank."

"Does the informant know," the red-head asked with a wide grin.

"I doubt it."

"When are they due?" Jix inquired, joining them in front of the screen.

"Estimatet date for the stopover is a week from yesterday."

The Corellian nodded firmly. "Then we will wait for them to give us a lift."

"Josh Inmay has gone missing," Toss Halan announced solemnly, prompting Erinin to look up from the star chart he had been studying in the Executor's bridge debriefing room. 

"He is what, the second?" the bodyguard asked, his one eye narrowed slightly. 

"Yes."

"Any clues as to what happened?"

"His neck was snapped, just as with Suhane, so I suppose we can exclude the stormtroopers from our suspect list."

"Yes. I will ask his lordship to question Thrawn on that once again," Erinin promised. 

It rankled that Irek had taken to spending more and more time with the Chiss and Shamesha, leaving everything to Erinin to organize. And now this. Two days after they had made their escape from Niaruan Suhane, a Twi'lek, had been found dead, and Erinin knew very well that only Thrawn stood between his team and the stormtroopers on board. So a thorough investigation was out of the question. He did not want to endanger his men more than necessary. They had control of the bridge, and thus control of the entire ship, through Irek, but they had no way of moving through the ship on their own. So far the threats against Thrawn seemed to be working, though. 

"Will he listen?" Toss Halan asked innocently, but his eyes spoke volumes. 

Erinin gave the man a cold glance. "Leave that to me, Halan. Check the weapons' and shields' status once more. I don't want to hit Ord Mantell and find that we are unprepared."

"At once."

"Good." He waited until Halan had left before he went and made his way to the upper bridge, where he would undoubtedly find both Irek and the Grand Admiral. He walked up the last few steps and nodded at Shamesha, who was lounging in one of the vacant seats dotting the nearly empty bridge. Irek was seated in the command chair, a look of childish delight on his face. Thrawn was standing at his side, his white uniform somewhat rumpled, and his bluish skin pale. Yet the glow in his bright red eyes was as strong as ever. 

"Erinin!" the boy shouted and bounded out of the chair. "When will we reach Ord Mantell?"

"A couple of hours, my lord," the bodyguard told him calmly. "We may have a problem, though."

"What problem?" Suddenly Irek's blue eyes became chips of ice. 

"Another one of my men was killed."

"Stormtroopers?"

"I doubt it. They would not risk the Grand Admiral's life."

"No, they would not, would they," Irek mused aloud, and somehow he sounded far older than his years. A cruel smile lit up his features as he turned his gaze on Thrawn. The Chiss' expression showed gave no indication whatsoever that the malice lingering in Irek's features had any effect on him. A cool one. "We can still access the ship-wide holochannel" the boy continued pensively. "I believe it might be time to show them that our threats are to be taken seriously. Is that not so, Grand Admiral?"

"Indeed."

"And I need a fully functioning fighting force to attack a planet, am I right?"

"Yes. Well done." There was just a hint of mockery in the Chiss' smooth voice then. 

"Thank you. I dearly hope that our unknown assailant will be reasonable and come out of hiding once the show is over. I may not have a knack for reading other people's minds, but there are always ways, aren't there?"

This time Thrawn kept silent.

He had been wondering what could possibly have happened to his Sith bodyguard, but this news confirmed what he had already suspected. Cronn had undoubtedly been too late to intercept Irek at the hangar bay, so he had decided to approach this another way. He would take out Erinin's men, one after the other, and keep the boy for last. The trick was, of course, to provoke the bodyguard into ordering a search for the Falleeen. Unfortunately Cronn had overlooked an important fact: Irek could force the stormtroopers to conduct the search, and then Cronn would have exactly two choices: kill his hunters or surrender. Surrender, of course, would result in his immediate death, that was, if Irek was smart enough not to let the Sith come close to him. 

The Grand Admiral almost smiled. He knew Cronn pretty well by now, and while the Falleen was not Chi'in, he was certainly an adept assassin, as his actions had proven so far. It was reasonable to assume that the Sith had come to the same conclusion he himself had: Irek might be able to influence machines, but he was not very adept at reading other people's intentions. Chances were, that he had no clue who or what Cronn was, whereas the Falleen knew exactly what he was facing, and knew how to avoid being detected by Irek. Still, if Cronn chose surrender, which would be the only plausible option, the Grand Admiral would have to prepare Irek for that eventuality. Erinin might see through this game, perhaps, but it was the boy who gave the orders.

"My lord," the bodyguard began on cue, "I suggest we have the stormtroopers search the ship. We need to have this problem removed by the time we hit Ord Mantell."

Irek gave Thrawn a questioning glance, that he returned coolly. "I agree," the Chiss replied. 

"You agree?" Erinin was visibly taken aback. "There's someone out there on this ship who might be able to free you and you agree to having him hunted down?"

"It stands to reason," the Grand Admiral explained, " that the Executor will not receive a very warm welcome. Even if that man managed to take out all of you, his actions might cost this ship dearly, might even lead to its destruction. I for one will not allow that."

"Why?"

"You saw what happened at Niaruan. I need the Executor intact."

"I told you he would be reasonable!" Irek crowded and flung himself into the command chair, practically bristling with excitement. But when he looked up to meet Thrawn's gaze a malevolent smile was marring his features. "You will tell the troopers exactly that, Grand Admiral. You will order that interloper to give himself up to my men. And then you will execute him personally." His smile widened. "Isn't that the proper procedure for cases such as this one?"

"It is, my lord."

"See? I am listening to what you say. Erinin, please prepare the transmission."

It could not possibly be that easy! Suppressing his own excitement Thrawn mentally drew up a suitable speech that might hide clues for Cronn as to what to expect. Not that he truly believed that Cronn did not already know what that would be. He knew the ship's regulations and procedures as well as his superior, after all. Over the past two days Irek had demanded that he be let in on exactly those, and it was clear to Thrawn that the boy was pursuing two goals by that. First, to be able to control the stormtroopers he had to understand the rules they lived by and second, a more personal ambition, he wanted to get to know more about the Grand Admiral. Why, Thrawn had not been able to find out yet. Well, no time for such speculations. If he managed to delay the announcement just a bit Cronn would be brought to the bridge exactly at the moment the Executor was scheduled to leave hyperspace. 

Two hours later, and after a heated discussion between Irek and Erinin, the announcement had been made and stormtroopers were scouring the ship, in case the unknown attacker decided that fighting still was the better option. As expected, though, the Falleen was smarter than that, and soon an announcement was relayed to the bridge, telling them that the asailant had come out after all. Leaving the Weequay warrior Shamesha behind to guard Irek, Erinin went to oversee the capture personally. 

Stalking through the eerily silent corridors of the giant warship Erinin hefted his heavy blaster rifle tighter. It seemed logical, on the outside, that Thrawn wanted the ship to remain intact and functioning, and one man's life was certainly a small price to pay for the greater good of his people. Admittedly he had been shaken quite a bit himself by the sudden appearance of those strange alien ships at Niaruan. The Grand Admiral seemed to have made closer acquaintance with that race beforehand, which was why he was so concerned about the ship's survival being tied so closely to his people's well-being. 

Yet, despite all those sensible reasons, that additionally fitted exactly with what he personally had been able to gather about Thrawn, Erinin still felt uneasy. There was something more behind this than what he could see at first glance, he knew. Escorted by four of his own people the bodyguard tensed when they met the squad of stormtroopers that had apprehended the interloper. He could hear his team shoulder their weapons behind him, but the white-armored soldiers did not seem to want to try anything. After all, they had received their orders from the Grand Admiral, and besides, those guys usually were not known for their initiative. Therefore it came as no surprise to find that the attacker was no trooper, but in fact a tall alien. A Falleen. Dressed in a black uniform with no apparent insignia the alien stood silently amidst his captors, but he regarded Erinin with some interest. There was no weapon apparent about his person.

Erinin gave the warrior a careful nod and noted with some relief that the troopers had been considerate enough to secure the alien's arms behind his back. "Good work," he told the assembly. "Where did you find him?"

"Deck 18."

"Weapons?"

"A BlasTech." 

The trooper who had answered his previous question handed the blaster over and the bodyguard tucked it behind his belt before he gestured for the Falleeen to step forward.

"All right. Get back to whatever you were doing. You are coming with us."

They waited until the stormtroopers had vanished at the far end of the corridor, and Erinin ordered two of his men to form a rear guard and make sure there would be no surprises, while he headed back for the bridge, along with the remaining pair and their captive. The Falleen moved with a fighter's grace and he seemed all too quiet for Erinin's taste. But then, he had chosen surrender himself and he was probably aware of the consequences. Nevertheless he did not seem very resigned. 

They made their way to the ship's bow in silence, and Erinin relaxed a fraction once they had reached the lower bridge. If the Falleen had had anything planned he had missed his chance. 

"Up there," he told the alien and pushed him toward the stairs. Irek was waiting for them, along with Thrawn and Shamesha. For some reason the Grand Admiral's features seemed to turn even colder than before Erinin had left, but the look on Irek's face was one of pure glee. 

"You've got him!"

"Yes, my lord."

"Excellent. Who is he?" The boy looked straight at the Falleen, but it was clear that he was talking to the Chiss.

"My second-in-command," Thrawn answered coldly and stepped forward smartly to confront the alien. "You put the ship and its commander at an unnecessary risk," he hissed viciously, prompting the other to lower his head ever so slightly. 

"There is no excuse, sir," the Falleeen answered softly. 

Someone behind Erinin snorted contemptuously, but the bodyguard was frantically trying to understand what his brain was trying to tell him. 

"It seems you have disappointed your commander," Irek said suddenly, his young voice an ugly purr. "What do you think your punishment will be?"

The Falleen threw a quick glance at Thrawn, then averted his eyes again in apparent shame. "I take full responsibility for my actions," the alien answered, his voice shaking just a little bit. 

Waving the prisoner closer Irek straightened in his seat. "Your superior has already sentenced you to death and still you gave yourself up. That is a true and very rare loyalty. Perhaps you should be rewarded."

Erinin shook his head in quiet disapproval. He did not like the way Thrawn was filling the boy's head with that nonsense about a warrior's honor, about tactics and strategy. But Irek was drinking in everything the Grand Admiral said, and the bodyguard knew very well that this could be extremely dangerous, if Thrawn gained too much influence. Admittedly there was perhaps just a bit of jealousy playing into his sentiments. He had raised the boy, taught him, and now Irek was turning away from him. It hurt to be dismissed just like that. Frowning at the Grand Admiral's back Erinin paused. The instance he realized that Thrawn was blocking his line of fire his mind flooded with icy shock. And then Irek screamed. 

He had to admit that Cronn had played his role perfectly and goaded Irek into exactly the trap Thrawn himself had anticipated. Standing in front of the boy the Falleen waited for the perfect moment to strike, giving his superior time to move into position. It was clear to both that Erinin would not expect the Chiss to act in his subordinate's defence, which gave both an element of surprise. When Cronn finally exploded into action it therefore came as a complete shock to all except Thrawn.

The Falleen freed himself of his bonds and slapped the palm of his right hand against the boy's forehead lightning quick. Irek sat bolt upright, a horrible piercing scream escaping from his mouth. By then the Grand Admiral had pivoted on his heels and punched a fist into the bodyguard standing behind him full force. Erinin stumbled back with a pained grunt and Thrawn twisted the blaster rifle from the man's unresisting hands and aimed it at the Weequay who came charging at him with an ear-splitting howl. To his mild horror the alien warrior did not even break stride as the laser bolts hit home. He pushed the Grand Admiral aside like a straw-figure, intent only on Cronn. 

As Thrawn stumbled to the deck the blaster rifle landed beside him in a loud clatter. For a moment, as he reached for the weapon again, he spared a glance at the Falleen, who was going in for a high-kick that whipped Irek's head around and flung the boy back into his chair hard, leaving him unconscious or dead. Then, spinning in mid-air the Sith warrior caught hold of an emergency handle installed into the ceiling in case of g-failure and twisted his body around to hammer his boots into the advancing Weequay's face with bone-shattering force. Shamesha stumbled back, clutching at his ruined head. Using the blaster rifle like a club the Grand Admiral battered it against the Weequay's ankles when he passed him by. In the background he noticed the nav comp tick away slowly as they closed in on their re-entry into realspace.

He knew he had to move fast, because Cronn was at a disadvantage, however bravely he might fight. By attacking Irek first he had made the mistake of leaving himself open to the others' fire, a mistake that had been unavaoidable. To the Sith the boy had automatically been the more dangerous target, but then, he did not know the limits of Irek's abiities. Thrawn scrambled to his feet quickly, the rifle clutched to his chest, only to find Erinin waiting for him, blaster at hand. Before the bodyguard could bring the BlasTech to bear, though, a dark shadow blocked his way. Cronn ripped the weapon out of the one-eyed man's hand, and just in that moment the Executor decelerated and lept into space bordering Ord Mantell like a predator, elegant, and deadly.

From a professional point of view Erinin would have been thoroughly impressed by this turn of events, if it had not been so damn dangerous. Irek was down, and Shamesha certainly would not recover again, and the Falleen was moving like a snake, with a fast, silent grace that made it almost impossible to hit him. As in most cases, almost did not count, though. Suddenly Shamesha fell to the deck, opening a breach in the tight cluster he, Thrawn and the Falleen had formed around Irek. 

Moving instantly the bodyguard darted forward to at least make the odds even by taking the Grand Admiral out, but the Falleen was faster. Something grabbed Erinin's blaster and tore it out of his hands. It was right then that he understood that he was a dead man. The alien was a Sith. He had seen too many not to know when he was facing one. The Falleen's cool gaze met his eyes and froze him where he stood. Raising Erinin's own weapon the warrior took aim – and lurched backward when the Super Star Destroyer made the jump to real-space.

The spell broken Erinin lunged at his opponent, smashing his fist against the other's chest hard, and sent him careening into the Grand Admiral, who had just gotten to his feet. His arms flailing the Sith sought to regain his balance, but too late. Erinin noticed Toss Halan raise his blaster out of the corner of his eye and retreated immediately, to get out of the other's line of fire. The Sith managed to deflect the first bolt, somehow, but then Anjuri, another member of his crew, moved in low and bore him to the deck. 

"Get back!" Erinin roared as he scooped up the BlasTech the Falleen had dropped when he had fallen. Sheer terror made his arms shake and forced him to hold the blaster with both hands. He did not wait for the Sith to get up again, squeezing the fire button as fast as he could. 

"Enough!"

He stopped, relief rushing through his veins like ice, cooling his temper considerably. Lowering the blaster he turned his head to look at Irek. The boy was hanging in his seat, his face deadly pale, but there was a sparkle in his blue eyes that foreboded nothing good. Chest heaving Irek straightened ever so slowly and rose. He gave the Grand Admiral a withering stare. Standing a bit off to the side the Chiss was very still, with Toss Halan's blaster boring into his ribcage. His glowing eyes were fixed solely on the Sith's silent form.

"You betrayed me!" Irek screamed, his lower lip quivering with outrage. "You told me that you would help me!"

"I did no such thing." That smooth, cool voice was unnerving, as unnerving as the Grand Admiral's seeming calm as he faced the boy down. "I made my interests plain, my lord. I want this ship back at Niaruan, not on some foolish crusade that serves nothing but your ego."

"I trusted you," Irek said between gritted teeth.

Thrawn shrugged. "A mistake, I should say."

"You!" Letting loose a wordless howl of pure rage Irek stormed over to where the Falleen lay unmoving and started kicking the lifeless body repeatedly. "You wanted to kill me!" Whirling around the boy growled loudly, but that animal sound was at odds with the icy look in his eyes. "You will pay for this, Grand Admiral," he declared, and for a moment Erinin thought that the words were alive, snapping at the air like a pack of Nek battle-dogs. "You will pay dearly." Suddenly a malevolent smile twisted Irek's mouth into a horrible grimace. "One down, Grand Admiral. Thousands to go. I can kill every stormtrooper on this damned ship, and of what use would it be to you then? Eh?"

The Chiss did not answer. He held himself proudly, head raised high, but Erinin suspected that there was a lot of pent-up anger and frustration hiding behind that haughty exterior. The problem was that they needed Thrawn alive. Or did they? Perhaps he should have a private talk with Irek on that. Very soon.

"Anakin?" Padmé peered at her husband's face in some concern. A faraway look played in his eyes, as he was staring off into the distance.

"What?" he asked suddenly, startled.

"What is going on? You seem distracted."

Turning his head to look at her his lips compressed into a thin line. For a moment there was a hint of that old anger lurking in the depths of his blue eyes. "There was a disturbance in the Force," he explained softly. "Cronn is dead, which can only mean that they have succeeded in bringing the Executor under control."

"Thrawn?" she asked, worry creasing her brow.

"I do not know. But we cannot be certain that he is alive."

She hugged her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. "I hope he is alive," she whispered. "What can we do?"

Anakin kept silent for a while. "There is something," he said at last. "I do not like it, but it might turn the tide."

"What is that?"

"If we make it public that Thrawn is attacking the New Republic, perhaps we can goad Irek into responding, maybe even respond in a way favorable to us."

Smiling up at him Padmé felt incredibly proud of her husband. "A good idea," she conceded. "But will it work?"

"We shall see, won't we? I hope Leia is truly planning what I think she does."

"Play the court against the military?"

"Yes. Zsinj is no fool, he knows that he is being manipulated by Andorwyn, but he agreed voluntarily, so there must be something in it for him, too. He'll help Andorwyn against Markhan, that is for sure. The question is whether Leia can convince the court to help _her_."

"She'll find a way, I am sure."

Anakin nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. If anyone can find a way it is her."

TBC


	11. Chapter 10 - A Change of Plan

****

Chapter 10 – A Change of Plan

Telmann Page felt slightly uneasy as he walked along the dank hallways of Joral's fortress. The air stank like a Weequay's armpit and it was far too gloomy for his comfort. Not that he expected comfort of any sort. Upon their capure he and Kell had been transferred to a shuttle heading out to Nal Hutta, supposedly for questioning. But he did not quite understand why they were being brought to the Hutt, and not the Imperial commander. Roj Kell was walking at his side quietly and he was studying the fortress with mild interest. There was no sign of anxiety on his part. Well, as long as the Imps did not know they were facing a Sith the two of them might get a chance at escape.

In the throne room Joral was resting on his dais, and not surprisingly, really, there was a human standing next to him, dressed in an Imperial Captain's uniform. A Twi'lek prisoner, Haman, the General guessed, knelt quietly in front of them. He did not even look up when the newcomers arrived. Page and Kell were shoved forward and the troopers forced both men to their knees, so that the three capitves formed one neat row. The Captain looked them up and down and a sudden smile lit up his features. He gave Page a curt nod of acknowledgement.

"General. What a surprise."

"General?" the Hutt boomed. "Which one?"

The Captain pointed. "This is General Telmann Page of the New Republic. Chief Security Advisor, too, if I am informed correctly."

"What is he doing here, then?" Joral snorted.

"That's what I would like to know, too," the Captain said softly. "With your permission, Your Highness, I would like to remove the prisoner for questioning."

"Not yet, my friend. This one," the Hutt waved a pudgy hand in the general direction of Roj Kell. "Who is he?"

"Sir," one of the stormtroopers replied smartly, " he allegedly initiated this rebellion in the first place."

The Hutt's golden eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Is that so? Haman!" 

Jerking upright the Twi'lek raised his head. He was trembling. "Yes, master?"

Page gave a contemptuous grunt at the creature's pitiful whining tone. Had the thing no honor? The Captain threw him a quick, warning glance, but Joral ignored his reaction completely and continued: "I was led to believe that it was you who plotted behind my back, Haman. Perhaps you know this one?"

"You are mistaken about your ally's intentions, Joral." Roj Kell's voice was soft, and yet it commanded instant attention. The General noted with some satisfaction the surprise on the Imperial captain's face. Rising to his feet gracefully the Sith Lord took a step back, studying the chamber intently, and deliberately avoided eye-contact with the Hutt lounging on his throne-like dais. The Captain lay a hand on his blaster, causing a small uproar in the ranks of the stormtroopers, who tried to sort out their weapons and keep an eye on the prisoners at the same time.

"What makes you think so?" Joral asked calmly, and Page thought he could detect a hint of amusement in the huge alien's booming voice. Apparently Kell had noticed that too. Turning his head he gazed at the Hutt coldly, his expression almost a sneer. 

"The Empire has betrayed you already and yet you are fool enough to trust them. There is just one reason for Imperial troops to interfere now."  


"Yes, indeed. That reason is the impending attack of the New Republic navy."

"You are a fool to trust the Empire, and a fool to trust the word of the traitor Haman." Shaking his head Roj Kell faced the Hutt fully and took a step toward him, his move so full of menace that it made even Page jump. Joral though was perfectly calm. The Captain was dividing his attention nervously between the old man and the Hutt, and his hand still clutched the blaster tightly. "Captain Kuyan," Kell continued sharply. "You met with the Council of Five on Ryloth, you promised Haman your support. Is that not so?"

"Yes," Kuyan grated out, looking surprised at his answer.

The Sith smiled coldly. "You see? They intended to use you as bait for the New Republic, and you were fool enough to fall for that."

"And only a fool would trust a Sith," Joral replied, "Guards!"

Page was as surprised as Kell, judging by the old man's expression, when a stunblast hit him square in the chest and left him on the floor, looking pretty dazed. The setting must have been to full, Page thought, judging by the smoke that rose from Kell's clothes. He winced when the Sith sat up slowly, and he ran a hand across his own chest gingerly in sympathy when he saw the severe burns that left the other's skin an angry, bloody red. 

"Your mind tricks do not work on me," Joral continued in a most satisfied tone. "And my ally will be delighted when he learns of your capture. Is that not so, Captain?"

The man sagged with relief. "Yes, of course. Grand Admiral Markhan will be most pleased." But there was a frown lurking on his forehead. Undoubtedly he was wondering who exactly they had captured.

"Your heroic effort in assisting the Hutts in this difficult time will be remembered fondly, Captain Kuyan," the Hutt purred. "A pity that you died in the line of duty." Page had exactly half a second to drop to the floor before the guards fired again. A few moments later the smoldering corpses of the Imperials joined him there. Joral's slow laughter filled the silence with an eerie sound. "You see, esteemed Sith, I am no fool. Not at all."

Roj Kell was glaring daggers at the huge alien. "You knew all along."

"I suspected, and you and Haman confirmed my suspicions. Now, what shall I do with you? Undoubtedly the Grand Admiral would give much to have you in his hands."

"Maybe he would. I have no idea," the old man answered haughtily.

"And you, General Page. What would you be worth to the Empire?"

Page rose again and shrugged. "A lot?" he ventured at last. 

Once again the Hutt's laughter reverbrated from the chamber's high walls. "Indeed!" he wheezed. When his mirth had died down again he turned his gaze on the Sith. "I do not like it when people try to manipulate me, but I like betrayal even less. You, General Page, will leave and go back to your New Republic. Tell them the mighty Joral does not look kindly upon their trying to interfere."

"The Twi'lek – "

The Hutt waved a tiny hand dismissively. "The Empire rules Ryloth now. If your New Republic takes an interest in their occupying the planet, by all means, let them. But Nal Hutta and Nar Shadaa are mine. I am out of this game."

Swallowing a reply Telmann Page gave a hurried nod. "What about him?" He indicated Kell, who was still on the floor.

"He will carry a message for me to the Grand Admiral."

"What message?" the Sith inquired suspiciously.

"The Empire is not welcome here any longer, but we do not wish a conflict. It is clear to me that the Grand Admiral sought to use us only for his ends, with no benefits to us altogether. Therefore his betrayal exhausts our deal."

"And what makes you think I would ever deliver that message?" Kell challenged him coolly.

The Hutt's gaping mouth widened in a mirthless smile. "There is a convoy leaving today from Nar Shadaa. An Imperial convoy."

"You just had its commander executed," the other reminded him calmly.

"Others will take his place. You will return to Byss, dead or alive I do not care. The Grand Admiral is a devious man, but I doubt that, with the New Republic about to strike at his troops at Ryloth, he will have anyone to spare to pay any attention to Nal Hutta. You understand? Your master and I part in peace, that way."

A smile twitched at the corners of Roj Kell's mouth. "Well," he said, "I see that we were not able to fool you. I bow before your profound wisdom, Joral." The Sith inclined his head respectfully, but Page was certain that inwardly Kell was shaking with laughter. Not that he himself minded that the Hutt had it all back to front. Did he truly believe that the Sith had acted on Markhan's behalf? "I will deliver your message to my – master," the old man added smoothly, and the General could practically see Joral's heavy bulk inflate with pride. 

"Then we are agreed," the Hutt boomed, sounding very smug and satisfied indeed. "General Page, please give my regards to the esteemed Mon Mothma. Should she need any assistance I am most willing to grant it to her."

"Of course. Thank you." Telmann Page bowed sharply before he stepped over to help the Sith Lord rise to his feet. "Will you be all right?" he asked quietly.

"Quite all right. Thank you," Kell replied just as softly. "Remember what I told you, General. It is important."

"Yes, I know. See you around."

"Possibly."

Belana frowned at Page's retreating back pensively, while two of Joral's henchmen rushed forward to escort Kell out of the room. She followed the trio slowly, at a loss of what to make of what had just happened. So the New Republic would confront Markhan's troops at Ryloth. How did that go together with Kell's plan? He owed her an explanation, that was for sure. They made their way to one of the palace's hangars, where an Imperial shuttle was waiting for them. A hurried exchange between the pilot and the guards almost resulted in violence, since Captain Kuyan was missing, but Kell calmed them down with a few Force-induced words of authority. What was he planning to do once they reached the Captain's flagship? After the shuttle had lifted off she tried to coax her lover into something of an answer, but, as it turned out, he himself was not certain what was about to happen.

"Who is that master he was going on about?" she asked, bewildered.

"I have no idea. Not Markhan, that much is clear. I suppose there is some sort of powerstruggle going on. Maybe some commanders think that Markhan is gaining too much power."

"What are you going to do now?"

"My task here is completed, even if it happened in a different way than I planned. The Twi'lek will join the New Republic and the Hutts will not dare to interfere."

"You told Page that you didn't want the rebellion to succeed...."

"To increase the pressure on the New Republic, and to force the Twi'lek to join. It is quite simple, really, when you know which levers to pull."

"Perhaps, in this case, that is even true," Belana conceded, astounded. So he had been planning on the Twi'lek joining the New Republic all along! And Joral had claimed that he was out of the game, which qualified as isolation, as far as she was concerned. Kell had thus achieved all of his objectives. "What about you?" she asked softly. "They will take you prisoner again, I know."

Kell scowled at that. "Thrawn didn't enjoy my company much, and neither will Markhan." His features lit up again when he added: "I don't think he'll like that message much. And I want to find out who is playing him and Joral both."

Aboard the Victorious Yana was feeling like a fool. She had trusted Abla, had loved him, even. That he would betray her like this ... The very idea of his deception outraged her. He had killed Marten – he had admitted it, when she had asked – and he had been relaying her discoveries to Tious Markhan all along. Incredible, that she had fallen for this traitorous slicer completely, and that she still felt a tiny spark of affection as she watched him pace the small expanse of her cabin. It was true then, that love made a fool of everyone. 

Seated on the single bunk, her shackled hands lying in ger lap, Yana tried to be as cool and forbidding as she could, while being so close to the man she had loved for close to two years now. He was seemingly trying to come up with some sort of apology, as if she could ever forgive him! Finally he stopped his pacing and turned to face her. Concern filled his dark eyes, concern and regret. She met his gaze haughtily, her lips compressed tightly in anger.

"Yana – "

"What?"

"I can only say I am sorry."

"Being sorry won't save you, Abla," she hissed.

"Why can't you just see reason? He won't harm you, all he wants from you is a bit of committment to the cause – "

"I don't want the Empire back!"

"You won't prevent its rebirth either, Yana. The New Republic cannot stand up to us. Not without Vader, not without Thrawn."

"What about Zsinj and the court?"

Abla shrugged dismissively and sat down beside her. "They are fools." Reaching out he ran the palm of his hand along her cheek tenderly. "Don't be a fool, Yana," he whispered softly. 

She jerked her head away, but blushed immediately. It had felt so good to have him touch her again ... Too good. "Tell me Abla," she began hoarsely, "do you really believe the court will accept me when they know exactly that I am no more than Markhan's puppet?"

"You are the Emperor's daughter."

"And that's it, isn't it?" Looking him straight in the eye she said: "There has to be more for me, Abla. It is a poor bargain this way."

"I am sure the Grand Admiral will be amendable to your wishes." 

She could see his relief clearly. But if he believed that he had managed to mellow her resolve he was badly mistaken. First chance she got she would kill him. In that regard she was very much like her father. Betrayal could not be tolerated, ever. Her thoughts of sweet vengeance were interrupted when the door opened without warning and a stormtrooper appeared, nodding at Abla.

"Sir, we have a problem."

"What problem? Is Captain Kuyan back?"

"No, sir. It seems that there have been some – difficulties on Nal Hutta. Joral has sent a messenger. Perhaps you should see for yourself."

"A messenger?" Abla bounded to his feet and strode over to the trooper. "Where is the Captain?"

"Dead, I think."

"What?"

"The messenger was very specific on that."

"Have the man escorted to the bridge and inform Commander Antham. I want a channel open to Byss by the time I get to the bridge."

"Yes, sir. As ordered."

Once the stormtrooper had left again Abla turned to face Yana once more. "One of your little schemes, Yana? Joral always seemed to have a soft spot for you."

"Did he? I never noticed," she lied.

"Very funny, baby. Come on. I want you with me, just in case he _is_ one of yours."

Abla let Yana walk ahead of him so he could better keep an eye on her. He did not trust her, not after she had promised to kill him. Yana was not someone to resort to empty threats. She held herself high, all haughtiness and cool composure, and Abla did not doubt that she would use any means that might arise to twist conditions to her advantage. Which was why he had warned the Grand Admiral to be very careful around her. Take this incident on Nal Hutta. Somehow he doubted that Joral had the imagination to see through Markhan's plot. Most likely Yana had made good use of the information she had undoubtedly gained on Yaga Minor. Damn Zsinj and those bootlickers of a court. But one fact cast doubts upon that theory. Yana had not really had a chance to contact Joral, or had she? 

Frowning a bit Abla quickened his pace to catch up with her as she strode toward the bridge. She stopped dead in her tracks all of a sudden, prompting him to run straight into her. Abla caught her self-consciously, before she could fall, and got a sharp elbow rammed into his stomach for his trouble. Screeching like a cat Yana whirled around, her hands raised high and balled into tight fists that descended upon his head with a vicious blow. He tried to shield himself against the assault, but only the interference of two stormtroopers could end her attack.

"Bastard!" she yelled, face red with anger and blue eyes throwing furious sparks. "I'll get you, you can bet your sorry ass on that!"

"Easy, girl," he told her as he straightened and rubbed a hand over his bruised cheek. For the first time he became aware of the gaping faces all around. The entire bridge crew was staring at him. His pride ruffled he raised his head and gave Yana a cold glare. "Secure her."

The two troopers led the still quivering woman over to one of the empty seats and made her sit down. She fairly ignored them, her gaze fixed solely on Abla. Feeling a bit uncomfortable he turned away to address Commander Antham, whom Kuyan had left in charge of the Victorious before leaving for Nal Hutta.

"Have you established a channel to Byss yet?" the slicer asked a bit harshly and Antham threw him a quick smile.

"Yes, sir. As you requested. Grand Admiral?"

"I hear you, Commander," the familiar voice of Tious Markhan replied calmly. "Is there trouble, Abla?"

"Apparently Captain Kuyan was killed on Nal Hutta," he replied, ignoring the sniggers that rose from the crew around him.

"This calls for retribution, don't you think? Commander Antham, I want you to take the Victorious on a hit and fade mission to target Joral."

"His palace?"

"Of course. Commander, you spoke of a messenger?"

"He is on his way to the bridge, I am told," Antham explained, and Abla noticed the nervous glance the commander gave the bridge entrance. "Ah, here they come."

Four stormtroopers, with a black-clad security guard leading them, escorted the messenger onto the bridge. To Abla's surprise he was human, not Twi'lek, as he had expected. Dressed in dark brown pants the man wore a long cloak that looked slightly torn and burnt, for some reason. Age had left a net of thin lines across the man's features and he moved gingerly, as if he were injured, which he was, as Abla noted on second glance. Severe stun blast burns criss-crossed the man's bare torso. Despite his apparent age the newcomer's features were still sharply defined, and there was a strength in his gaze that had everyone spellbound instantly. 

The sound of urgent little noises from Yana's direction made Abla tear his eyes away from the stranger to look over at her. Mouth hanging open she was gaping at the messenger openly. Incredulous surprise was plain on her pretty face, mixed with fear. Did she know him after all? Commander Antham was apparently oblivious to the information broker's reaction. He took a step toward the messenger and nodded gravely. 

"You have something for us?"

"Yes. A message from Joral." 

Abla felt his body jerk in response to the old man's voice, that seemed to combine a rich baritone with silver chimes. The stranger gave him a thin smile, then turned his head slowly to look at Yana. She sat bolt-upright and blushed for some reason, casting her eyes down in embarrassement. What was going on there? Abla frowned fiercely at the two of them, but then the Grand Admiral broke the spell. 

"What message would that be?"

"The Empire is not welcome in Hutt Space any longer. Joral requests you to withdraw your troops from Nar Shadaa and Nal Hutta immediately."

"Is that so," Markhan replied coolly. "Joral and I had a deal, as far as I recall."

"Yes. But you deceived him, did you not? You convinced Haman that you would support his rebellion on Ryloth. To Joral that qualifies as if you had broken the deal openly. For your benefit he will refrain from interfering in your quarrels with the New Republic."

"How gracious of him. He sent a messenger to tell me that? He could have contacted me personally. I wonder why he chose to send you. Commander Antham, can you give me a visual of our visitor?"

"At once, sir." Antham nodded at the comm officer, who executed the request immediately. There was a brief pause as the Grand Admiral undoubtedly waited for the image to resolve on his screen. Then the silence went on for a little while longer. Finally Markhan said:

"Commander Antham, you will take your flagship to Ryloth and establish order there. Take two additional ships as reinforcements. Send the rest of the convoy on its way here. Abla, you have succeeded in apprehending Yana Dar?"

"Yes, sir. She's here with me."

"Ah. Excellent. Welcome to the Empire, my lady. As for our unexpected visitor, Abla, you will make sure that he leaves Nar Shadaa with you."

The slicer gave the stranger a doubtful glance. "As ordered, Grand Admiral."

"That is all, gentlemen. Markhan out."

Yana jumped up from her seat, anger replacing surprise. "Why are you here?" she asked the old man. "Are you mad?"

"And who might you be?" the other asked right back. "You seem to know me, but I do not recall ever having seen you before."

Suddenly becoming aware of her being the sole focus of the bridge crew's attention Yana lowered her voice and said, a bit hesitantly: "I saw you once. On Byss." 

The messenger frowned at her deeply. "Why? Who are you?"

"My name is Yana Dar. I am Darth Sidious' daughter."

__

Who the heck is Darth Sidious? Abla asked himself, before he realized that she was talking about Palpatine. 

"His daughter," the old man hissed under his breath, and something resembling a growl emanated form his throat. Face twisting in anger he raised his right hand toward Yana, who took a step back and plopped down on her seat, eyes wide with fear. "He never mentioned you, Yana Dar." Shaking his head with a wistful sigh he relaxed once more. "You are right. He has paid for that already, and she is innocent regarding her father's deeds. Yet she was on Byss too," he added, seemingly to himself, and threw the information broker a dark look. 

"It was not my choice," Yana explained quietly. 

Commander Antham apparently had had enough of this discussion, undoubtedly very conscious of the fact that the Grand Admiral always expected his orders to be carried out without delay. "Enough of this banter," he snapped. "Othana, you have heard the Grand Admiral. Remove the prisoners from this ship and get on your way. Now. You," here he pointed at the messenger. "I don't know who you are or what the Grand Admiral wants with you, but you will behave yourself. Get going. We have a war to prepare."

"Lord Andorwyn! What is going on?" Leia darted after the Kuati, who was hurrying past the women's apartments down the hallway. The palace was in an uproar, and guards and nobles alike were running around aimlessly.

"Zsinj," Andorwyn answered curtly, his face a mask of worry. "He's suffered heavy losses at Ord Mantell. Chances are that the attackers will strike here next."

"What attackers?" the Princess asked, keeping up with his long strides with difficulty. 

"They have wiped out almost the entire fleet Zsinj sent there. The Iron Fist is reported missing."

That made her stop in her tracks. "Zsinj is dead?"

"Presumably yes," he replied and turned to face her.

She lay a hand on his forearm urgently. "You know what that means! You will not escape Markhan now. He will hunt you down, all of you, and accuse you of high treason!"

"Come now, Princess," he replied with a cold smile, "you do not truly believe that the Grand Admiral is invincible, do you?"

"All I know is that he's got a fleet and you haven't. You are doomed. And I mean that."

He gave an incredulous laugh. "You are ridiculous! We are not on our own, and even if we were, we are powerful enough to - "

Leia propped her hands on her hips and raised her chin haughtily. "To do what? Raise an army? I doubt it. If that really is Markhan out at Ord Mantell you are dead."

"And what if it isn't him?"

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You know as well as I do what that would mean. Irek Ismaren will not look well upon you once he learns of your taking his mother prisoner."

She could see that she had hit a nerve there. Suddenly Andorwyn grabbed her arm and dragged her toward one of the windows. "Listen, Princess, this is no game. We are leaving Yaga Minor within the hour, and it would be best for you if you went with us."

"Whatever for?" Leia inquired, knowing full well what he was going to propose next.

"If – if things don't turn out the way we have planned, we – we might come to a mutual agreement."

Twisting out of his grip the Princess laughed. "You believe the New Republic will offer you asylum? A bunch of self-indulgent vultures who care nothing for what is going on beyond their own small world? No," her lips twisted into a sneer, "you'll have to come begging on your knees for that, my lord. And now you should hurry, if you really want to leave in one hour."

Han Solo and Lando Calrissian pushed their way through the crowds surging toward the ports brutally. Everyone seemed to be on the run, and most people wore terrified expressions on their faces. Up ahead shuttles were descending on the landing pads of the governmental palace, and it looked as if the building was being evacuated.

"Do you think your Princess might have anything to do with that?" Lando joked.

"I doubt it," the Corellian growled back. "Where the hell has Fett vanished to?" The bounty-hunter had been with them only a moment ago, but Han could not see him any longer, a fact that concerned him very much. 

"Don't worry about me, Solo." Boba Fett materialized out of the crowd and started toward the palace. "Better hurry, before – "

The whining sound of approaching TIE fighters hushed the crowd into silence. Heads turned upward everyone tried to make out the attacking ships. And there they were, dropping right out of the sky, guns blazing away, The crowd panicked.

"Damn!" Han let loose a string of colorful Corellian curses, but followed Lando and the bounty-hunter to a niche set into one of the nearby houses. "What's going on?" he shouted over the roar of a few hundred beings screaming out their mutual terror. 

"An Imperial armada is running an attack on the planet," Boba Fett explained, sounding awfully calm. "We had better get Magrody out of there fast. And your Princess, of course," he added as an after-thought.

Suddenly Han had his blaster out and Lando followed suite. Staring into the bounty-hunter's masked face the Corellian frowned darkly. "Where have you been?"

"You truly believe you could be fast enough?" Fett asked softly. "Only the two of you?"

"I'll take my chances," Han snorted, "and Lando's always been a bit of a gambler. He seldomn loses, by the way. Now, again, where have you been? You forbade us to communicate with anyone, you controlled the comm, and I believe you just received new instructions. Care to enlighten us?"

"Not bad, Solo. Not at all bad," the bounty-hunter replied, sounding genuinely surprised. 

"Anything to do with this attack?"

When Fett moved he did not care to stop before he had disarmed Han with a well-placed blow of a gauntleted hand and spun around to wrestle the blaster from Lando's grip. Holding both weapons he kept very silent. Han swallowed a fat lump of fear and raised his hands tentatively, seeing the baron do the same. "I don't like your attitude, Solo. I have a job to do and you two are interfering with that immensely, so here is how it's gonna be: Lucky for you my contractor is Joral, or else you'd be dead by now. I will go in there and get Magrody. Whether you want to follow to get your Princess I don't care, but if you get in my way again you are dead. Clear?"

That must have been the longest speech Han had ever heard from a bounty-hunter. Usually it was just something on the lines of "Hey, you!" or the all-time favorite "Drop that blaster!". He nodded slowly. "Clear, sure. Isn't that so, Lando?"

"Yeah, crystal."

"Good." Whirling around Boba Fett vanished into the crowd, blasters and all.

"Hey!" Han yelled after him. "You've got something that belongs to me!"

"Wanna go and get her back?" Lando asked, arching his brows coolly. The Corellian grinned at the baron nastily. 

"The lady cost me a fortune and I'm kinda attached to her."

"I was talking about Leia."

"Yeah. I know. Let's go."

"Roganda, we are leaving," Leia announced, striding into the room like a queen. Looking up from where she had been studying the turmoil outside Roganda nodded. 

"I thought we might," she answered with a small smile and rose. It had only been a matter of time, really, until something like that happened. "Are those Markhan's troops or the New Republic's?"

The Princess gave her a look of faint surprise, then continued with throwing together some necessities she obviously planned to take with her. "Markhan. Lord Andorwyn told me that Zsinj's troops have been almost wiped out at Ord Mantell. It stands to reason that they would attack us next." 

"Can we escape?" Roganda inquired, excitement taking hold of her all of a sudden. She was completely alert, her worries forgotten for the moment. "How are we going to leave?"

"We'll think of something," the Princess offered. "Take only what you absolutely need. We have to go."

She did as ordered, following the younger woman's instructions wordlessly. Reason told her that the girl had much more experience than her in a situation such as this, and additionally she had studied with her father. When all was said and done it was Leia's knowledge that had to suffice to get both of them out of here. Once they were finished with their hurried packing Leia slung a bundle over her shoulder and secured it around her waist, so it would not distract her on the run. Roganda imitated her and joined the Princess by the door. The sounds of a fight going on inside the palace had reached them moments before, and it was chaos as they stepped into the hallway. Servants and clerks were running aimlessly, intent only on getting out of the building. 

"We will need some weapons," Leia whispered and motioned her companion forward. Slipping down the corridor after her Roganda felt her heart beat in her throat. All of her senses were heightened and suddenly the Force seemed within reach, such a bright light, making her feel safe. 

"Leia!" she called softly. "The hangars are that way."

"They'll hit those first. No, we need something more inconspicuous. Do you have any idea? You know the palace better than I do."

"I believe there is a small gate that's very hard to find from the outside. Let's head that way."

As she turned away she felt the Princess' hand hold her back. Looking over her shoulder Roganda met the other's dark gaze. 

"I trust you, Roganda," Leia told her softly. 

"You are my only chance to see my son again," she replied. "Come, we should hurry."

The ran side by side, but only two hallways further their flight was stopped by a squad of stormtroopers, who were exchanging fire with some of the palace guards. Suddenly a man called over the roar of blasters whining: "Cease fire!" The stormtroopers obeyed instantly and, crouched behind a corner, Roganda and Leia watched a stocky human step out from the armored soldiers to address the guards. 

"I am General Zi'Assime, and I am making this offer only once: surrender now and nothing will happen to you, as loyal subjects of the Empire. Yaga Minor is, as of now, under military order, and I represent the military right here. Drop your weapons instantly." 

Roganda noticed the Princess shaking her head in quiet pleading, eyes wide. After a moment's hesitation they could hear the clatter of blaster rifles hitting the floor. "No!" Leia moaned softly and a second later the stormtroopers opened fire on the now helpless guards. "Let's go!" Grabbing Roganda's wrist she sprinted toward the opposite corner and into the next hallway. A volley of blaster bolts followed them. 

"Over there!" Roganda yelled and dived toward a small door. Pushing it open she found herself in a small courtyard. Leia followed her promptly and closed the door behind her.

"It doesn't have a lock," she commented, "and we have no weapons."

"Leia!" 

Whirling toward the owner of that sweetly familiar voice the Princess found Han Solo racing

across the gravelled ground toward her, a joyful smile splitting his face nearly in half. She ran to meet him and fell into his embrace gratefully, tears of joy and relief bursting from her eyes at the feel of his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Han," she whispered. "You're here."

"We had a hell of a time finding this damn gate," he told her with a chuckle, "and who could have known what was hidden behind it?" Someone cleared his throat discreetly to gain their attention. "Oh. Sorry." Han kept an arm around her shoulders as he turned to indicate a dark-skinned man standing next to him. "This is Lando Calrissian, an old friend."

"I am delighted to make your charming acquaintance," Calrissian said and flashed her a most winning smile. "And now, if you two love birds don't want to end up roasted alive, we should leave at once."

"Of course." Leia blushed ever so slightly, then disengaged from the Corellian and gestured for Roganda to join them. The woman was watching the newcomers suspiciously, but leia turned her attention back to her lover instantly. "Do you have the Falcon?"

"Sure thing. Let's go." Han grabbed her hand and did not seem to ever want to let go. Smiling to herself Leia stumbled after him, but she still kept an eye on Roganda, to make sure that the former Emperor's Hand was truly following. To her slight surprise Calrissian also kept an eye on the dark-haired woman. 

Outside the palace the chaos had dimmed down a bit. The attack had stopped for now, but she knew all too well that this only meant that Yaga Minor had surrendered to the General's troops. Zi'Assime. There was another name she would never forget. She had known that he would not stay true to his promise when he had told those guards that they had nothing to fear from his troops. It was exactly that kind of cruelty among Imperial commanders that had given the Imperial military its reputation. Somehow, Leia thought, the navy had always been a bit of an exception there, and she suspected that her father had had a great influence in those matters. How else could men like Piett or Needa have risen to command?

"Did Father send you?" she asked Han breathlessly as she ran beside him.

"Not directly. He said I'd have his permission to go looking for you, but it was Joral who pointed us this way. He wanted us to kidnap Magrody, too, by the way. But I guess we can forget about that."

"Why?"

" 'Cause Boba Fett is after him, too. Turns out that Joral has blown his deal with the Empire and works his own scheme now."

Leia stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Han to stop, too. "What do you mean? What deal with the Empire?"

"Yana Dar had you kidnapped and brought here to make some deal. Joral was in with her and – "

"No, you are mistaken," Leia interrupted him. "Yana Dar was not the one who ordered my kidnapping. It was her." She pointed at Roganda. "Yana wanted me to help her, but she did not say with what."

"And where is she now? She was supposed to be with you at Yaga Minor."

"We were attacked." She looked back toward the governmental palace with a frown. What if Andorwyn and his cronies managed to escape? "We have to go. I'll tell you everything once we're on board the Falcon."

As expected the port was closed, and stormtroopers were milling about, keeping a sharp eye on everything. Leia could make out six TIEs patrolling over the city and it was clear that they would need a great deal of luck to get off the planet. Chewing her lower lip thoughfully she tried to think of any way they could distract the soldiers, but none would come to mind. 

"What are we going to do?" Roganda, who had joined her quietly, asked.

"I have no idea."

They were hiding amidst the throng of people that had assembled in front of the port, and the Princess winced at all those hopeful faces. Did they truly believe that they would be allowed to leave now? Suddenly someone tapped her shoulder and she turned her head to gaze at Han, who was silently pointing at something to the right. She noticed two men walking along a street that went parallel to the port plaza. One was Nasdra Magrody, and the other ... "Who is that?" she whispered and extended hert senses to get a read on the armored warrior.

"Name's Boba Fett," Han answered under his breath, "and he's a bounty-hunter. Come on, I think we should follow those two." He threw Leia a wide grin: "He's still got my blaster, and I want that back."

Running at Leia's side Han Solo was grinning like a fool, happiness filling his heart with an aching longing. He suppressed an urge to reach out again and hold her hand for the sake of mobility, but kept gazing at her in wonder. Finally, finally they were back together. She wore a determined expression on her face and Han thought that fierceness made her look even more beautiful. That was how he knew her, his warrior princess who never gave up, and that he secretly preferred over Leia the politician. Not that he would tell her that to the face, but he suspected she knew. After all, she herself found it refreshing sometimes to forgo all that back-stabbing and manipulating for the much simpler principle of friend or foe.

He and Lando had managed to come by a few blasters and Han had given Leia a spare one, retaining two himself. It had been clear to everyone in their small group that Roganda certainly would not be outfitted with a weapon. He was wondering why Leia cared to take the woman with her at all, after she had had her kidnapped. Throwing Roganda a suspicious look he saw tears streaming down her cheeks. What was it with her? Suddenly Lando tapped his shoulder and he stopped, catching his breath as he joined Leia, who stood at an intersection and was watching their quarry intently.

"We are on the southside of the port," Roganda supplied in a breathless voice.

"That's where the Falcon is," Han added, and cursed under his breath. "If that skunk dares touch my ship – "

"Han!" Shaking her head at him Leia was smiling. "The question is how we can get off-planet."

"I won't leave the Falcon behind," he replied stubbornly.

Up ahead Fett was dragging an unresisting Magrody along the outer wall of the port, all the while scanning it for something they could not see. Then he stopped and raised his arm, wrist pointed at the sky. A grappling hook shot out from his utility belt and landed on the wall's top. The bounty-hunter tugged at it once to make sure that it would hold, then turned his helmeted head to look back straight at Han and his crew. The Corellian froze. 

"Has he seen us?" Lando whispered.

"I think yes," Han whispered back. "What is he doing now?" he asked aloud when Fett unhooked a grenade from his belt and threw it over the wall. His eyes widened in surprise when he understood and a whole string of Corellian curses were launched at the bounty-hunter. Han grabbed his blasters and would have stepped out from the protective wall they were hiding behind, had Leia not held him back.

"Han, what is going on?"

"He's going to – " The grenade went off on the other side of the wall circling the port with a loud boom. Fett snatched a knife from his belt and cut the cable on the grappling hook, then hurried further down the street, Magrody in tow. "Great," Hans huffed, "now every damn stormtrooper's bound to come poking around the Falcon."

"Does that mean we cannot escape?" Rogand asked softly.

"No, it just makes things harder. Come on." Han jogged over to the cable still hanging down the wall, the others hard on his heels. "Lando, you watch the street." 

Hoisting himself up the cable Han was out of breath by the time he had reached the top. As expected troopers were swarming toward the Millennium Falcon. He also noticed that the ship's hull had been slightly dented and blackened by the grenade explosion. Damn bounty-hunter! So far the troopers had not seen him and he carefully brought up his blasters. A movement further down loosened another curse from his tonue. How had Fett managed to get across the wall? Taking aim he sent a blaster bolt toward the retreating bounty-hunter, thereby drawing attention not only on himself, but also on Fett. The troopers broke into confusion and Han yelled: 

"Leia! Get up here and give me some cover!" 

Heaving himself onto the top of the wall fully he braced himself and jumped. Impacting hard against the Falcon's hull he grappled for a better hold and sought some purchase for his flailing boots. Finally he managed to get on top of the ship and ran toward the port emergency hatch. Up on the wall Leia let loose a round of laserbolts. Good girl. His fingers worked the lock hastily and he heaved a relieved sigh when the hatch popped open at last. Turning his head he looked back toward the Princess. "Get down! I'm going to break that pretty wall!" She nodded and vanished instantly. Han dropped into the hatch and closed it, took the elevator down and raced through the crew-quarters and the main corridor toward the cockpit at record speed. Already he could hear blaster bolts impact against the ship hull. "Don't you dare, you bastards," he growled under his breath as he skidded to a halt in front of the cockpit door and palmed it open. "All right, old lady, let's see you in action."

"What is he doing?" Leia demanded, while her eyes never left the port wall. The roar of the Falcon's engines coming to life drowned out most of Lando Calrissian's response. 

".... shoot his way clear!" she heard him shout.

"I figured that much out," she replied and withdrew further into the alley they had come down. Suddenly blaster bolts began sizzling through the air over head. "Duck!" Before she launched herself out of harm's way she made out a squad of storm troopers head their way. And Roganda stood frozen in the middle of the street! "Roganda!" The woman turned toward her, her black eyes wide with terror, and just at that moment her tiny body was lifted off the ground as a stray bolt hit her. "No!" Tears sprung to the Princess' eyes for some reason and she fired blindly at the advancing soldiers. At her side Calrissian was methodically picking off storm troopers with his own weapon. "Roganda," Leia repeated in a whisper. 

"Come on, it's over," Calrissian told her softly and only then did she realize that all the soldiers were down. With a loud crash the wall behind them shattered. "The Falcon's waiting."

"We can't leave her behind," the Princess told her companion firmly and darted toward where Roganda was spread out on the cobblestones. She was still breathing, but her face was deadly pale. 

"Give me some cover," Calrissian ordered as he picked up the small woman and headed for the ship that was still spewing laser bolts at the troopers inside the port. The entry hatch was open and faced the gaping hole in the wall, so Lando could just run ahead and into the ship's safe womb, with Leia close behind. She slapped her palm against the hatch release and immediately it snapped close again. 

"Get her hooked up to emergency," she called after Lando before she veered off toward the cockpit to join Han. He was seated in the pilot's chair, his face grim.

"Took your time, honey," he said by way of greeting and Leia shot him an incredulous look before she noticed the sudden smile on his face. "Would you mind taking over dorsal?"

"No, certainly." The Princess ran toward the accessway and met Lando on the way. "How is she?"

"Not sure, alive for now," he replied briskly and jogged over to assist Han as co-pilot. 

Just when Leia dropped into the gunner' seat the Falcon lifted off, pressing her down into the chair hard. She had barely time to strap in and grab the gun array. Once she had managed to take a calming breath, though, things looked better. She forced herself to become completely tranquil, like her father had taught her. Calling up the sensor screen she put on the head-comm and switched it on. "Ready to go," she announced.

"Great! Just watch whatever is coming at us from down-planet," Han told her. "I'll try to keep the TIEs away as best as I can."

"Sure," she answered with a smile. "Piece of cake." Dropping into the flow of the Force she let its calm guide her hands and relaxed.

Two hours later the Millennium Falcon was locked in hyperspace and en route for Coruscant. 

After a having taken a long shower and dressed in fresh clothes Leia exited the bath-room and walked into the crew quarters leisurely, her dark hair glistening in the ship's artificial light. She almost jumped when Han hurried out of the captain's cabin opposite and stopped short upon seeing her. An awkward silence made the air brim with apprehension. 

"How is Roganda?" the Princess asked with a smile and sat down at the table. A moment later Han stepped up to join her, but remained standing. He seemed strangely absent.

"She's better," he replied slowly. "Lando's looking after her, but we'll need professional medical assistance. Pretty bad burn."

"But she'll live."

"Yeah .... Listen –" he stopped himself and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose wearily. 

"Yes?" Slightly bewildered by his behaviour Leia started rising from her seat, but Han gently pressed her down again. 

"No!" he exclaimed, looking frantic, but then his features eased again. "You'd better stay there if I'm going to tell you this." His sudden grin was somewhat at odds with what she could sense from him. Fear, worry and hope. What was going on?

"Han, I – "

"No, just listen. Please." Leia patiently folded her hands in her lap and waited, her dark eyes looking up at him expectantly. "Okay – " Han cleared his throat noisily and lay a hand on top of the table as if for support. He stared at the hand as if seeing it for the first time and mumbled something like: "Never thought it'd be so hard." The Princess' heart skipped a beat and she felt her face flush with joyful anticipation. Could it be? She felt like laughing out loud, and her lips twitched ominously as she tried to suppress her feelings. Then Han dropped down on one knee before her and both his hands wrapped around hers, holding them tight. "You, know, back on Corellia I was so mad when you had been kidnapped. And worried, of course – " he added hurriedly, his eyes widening with fear of having spoiled the mood. Leia simply smiled at him. Thus encouraged he continued somewhat shakily: "Thing is, we've been through so much together and I enjoyed every second of it. I think I know you feel the same." She nodded mutely and a relieved grin flashed across his face. "Great! I - "Again he cleared his throat and his expression turned serious once more. "I have waited for so long to ask you this ... Will you marry me?"

Unable to hold back her emotions any longer Leia exploded in tears and laughter and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close. "Of course I will!" Placing a kiss on his lips she whispered. "Did you ever have doubts about that?"

"Truthfully? No, but perhaps I just didn't want to believe my luck," he shot back, smiling. 

Looking into his eyes deeply Leia felt her excitement fade into certainty. "I love you, Han."

"I know."

TBC


	12. Chapter 11 - A Storm Brewing

****

Chapter 11 – A Storm Brewing

Grand Admiral Tious Markhan was in no good mood. True, Ryloth was in Commander Antham's hands, and it made for the perfect location of staging an attack on the New Republic, along with Yaga Minor, but Joral's betrayal had cost them their cover. The New Republic government could now be certain of an impending strike at their borders, and they would prepare for it. Well. He had planned to dissemble the government peacefully, but since that was no longer an option, he would simply have to do this the hard way. Yana Dar, once she was here, would ensure the loyalty of the hard-core followers of the Empire, and her diplomatic skills would soon gain her the trust of the court. What did it matter that it was himself, Tious Markhan, who ruled? As long as people were content they would not protest. 

The door to his office chimed open and admitted Franzis Sarreti. The Lieutenant had spent the past days on a diplomatic mission of his own, preparing the sector commanders for the events to come. Nodding at the young man, Tious sat down behind his desk, not bothering to offer his aide a seat. Protocol would have forbidden Sarreti to accept anyway. 

"What do you have for me?" he asked softly.

"The negotiations were successful. Most agreed, and those who did not will soon realize the error of their disagreement. But there is something else I picked up on my way here." Sarreti held up a datacard. "Intelligence recorded this on the official channels."

"Let's see it, then."

The Lieutenant activated the holorecorder and started playing the message. It was an official government announcement from the New Republic, featuring President Mon Mothma in regal finery. Raising her head high the auburn-haired woman gave the cameras a cool glance. 

"Gentlebeings of the New Republic," she began, her voice gentle, yet firm, "dire news have reached us from the Outer Rim. Apparently Grand Admiral Thrawn has decided to end his alliance with the New Republic and has started an attack on our borders. We can and will contain this threat, and I want to make it clear that this is not an act of war against the Imperial remnant. Our information is incomplete as of yet, but we are evaluating a range of different approaches to counter this attack. Again, we are not at war." 

She gave the cameras a stern nod. "However, I also warn the Imperial remnant not to try and take advantage of our situation. Any attack on their behalf will be met with maximum resistance. To clarify rumors that seem to have infected the New Republic worlds: yes, the Empire has reclaimed the planet Ryloth. We will respect that claim for as long as they do not violate the basic rights of the people of Ryloth. I am given to understand that this is not an occupation of the planet, but our diplomatic corps will ascertain the truth of this statement." 

A sudden smile lit up her face when one of her aides rushed over to hand her a holocard. "I have just received news that Minister of State Leia Organa has been safely recovered and is on her way back to Coruscant." A small cheer went up from the people surrounding her. "Thank you for your attention." Inclining her head with the smile still in place, Mon Mothma's image dissolved into static.

Tious stared at the screen for some time, his thoughts spinning. "She did not mention Zsinj," he stated at last, "or that Organa ever was an Imperial prisoner. She says the New Republic respects our claim and at the same time warns us not to interfere. But," and here he could not suppress a gleeful smile, "she bought the story with Thrawn. Of course," he added, "that still leaves us at a loss as to what agenda the New Republic is pursuing."

"They obviously do not want to provoke us, knowing that we are the superior force," his aide suggested quietly.

"Yes, yes, of course, but I know Lord Vader. He would never agree to this."

"Then perhaps Lord Vader has nothing to say in the government any longer."

"And what was that about their diplomats ascertaining the truth of our statement? Who supposedly made that statement anyway? And I am certain that there are no New Republic diplomats on Ryloth." A frown appeared on the Grand Admiral's face. "I want to talk to General Zi'Assime. At once."

"Yes, sir."

The General seemed to have a premonition of what was to come, for his first words were: "Yaga Minor is secured for now, but I have bad news, sir."

"Yes," Tious hissed, "this particular bad news has already reached me. Am I right to assume that you were equally unable to hold on to Roganda Ismaren and Nasdra Magrody?"

"Yes, sir, they are gone. According to my troops Nasdra Magrody was last seen with the bounty-hunter Boba Fett, and Roganda Ismaren with the Princess, who left aboard the Millennium Falcon."

"Fett?" The Grand Admiral sat up in surprise. "I thought we had ordered him to get rid of Solo and Calrissian?"

"A command he obviously did not heed. Personally I suspect Joral of treason."

"Which would not be the first time he's betrayed us," Tious growled softly. "So, Ismaren on her way to Coruscant, undoubtedly, where she will shed light on what is really going on aboard the Executor, if we are correct."

"My scouts confirmed that Zsinj's fleet was annihilated at Ord Mantell."

"But was it the Executor?"

"That we will have to ascertain."

"No. You will do no such thing. You, my dear General, will sit very still and do nothing until I require your services again. I will have to sort out the mess you have gotten us into first, before we can strike. Is it safe to assume that Zsinj is dead?"

"Yes. His personal flagship, the Iron Fist, was reportedly completely destroyed."

"Ah, that is some good news after all. The other good news, of course, is that we won't have need of Professor Magrody after all. How are your agents' efforts in tracking Admiral Piett proceeding?" 

"They should have him secured any time now."

"Should!" Tious snapped in annoyance. "I want hard facts, General. Promises won't buy us victory. I am sending Major Olade to assist you in establishing a forward base on Yaga Minor. That is all." 

Once the General's face had vanished, Tious immediately proceeded in contacting the Victorious. Commander Antham was on the line instantly.

"Sir, how may I be of service?"

"Ryloth is secured?"

"Yes, sir. The rebels have been detained, just as you suggested. I do not expect any more resistance."

"Well, then let's hope your expectations are met. Have your troops question the prisoners. I want to find out if there are any New Republic agents with them. The convoy left on schedule?"

"Yes, sir. No problems there."

The Grand Admiral exhaled noiselessly. "Excellent," he breathed. "You will prepare yourself to receive a New Republic representative at Kala'uun. Our claims to the planet are legitimate and I want them to understand that they have no right to interfere at all. Clear?"

"Yes, clear. Sir," here the Commander hesitated just a fraction, "is it true that Grand Admiral Thrawn is attacking the New Republic?"

"That is just a ruse, Commander. You have your orders. Markhan out."

"That convoy, is that the one that is taking Yana Dar to Byss?" Franzis Sarreti asked quietly from where he was still standing in front of the desk.

"Yes. They will make a stopover at Garqui to pick up supplies. I have already ordered security to have an eye on that convoy. Another surprise like that one in Hutt Space and we might as well throw our strategy over board."

"What are we going to do about Joral?"

"Nothing as of yet. I wonder who they will send to Ryloth. Someone experienced, a politician, of course." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Does a name come to mind?"

Padmé was hanging on to her husband with all her strength. It felt so good to be held in his arms, so good to feel his strength and calm, so incredibly good to share her joy with him. Leia was coming home. Her face pressed against his chest she was very still, listening to his heart-beat, her own blood pounding in her ears at a fast, steady pace that betrayed her own excitement. 

Outside of their apartment's viewport Coruscant went on about its daily business and speeders and cargo barges filled the space lanes busily. Yet that busyness could not compare with what was going on inside Padmé's mind. Now that her daughter was safe she had to suppress the urge to worry about her son. With what Karrde had revealed to them that was a very hard job, and so she was battling herself constantly, to prevent her tears of joy to turn into anxiety. 

"It will be all right," Anakin mumbled in her ear as he picked up on her warring emotions, and he rubbed a hand along her back soothingly. She buried her nose into his shirt and heaved a deep sigh. 

"I know. It is just – " Looking up into his blue eyes she could not find the strength to smile. "I had to give them up for so long and we have been together for only a year now. I do not want them to be so far away ever again."

"They are grown up. We must accept that they have their own lives to live."

"Don't you miss the time we lost? The time we could have spent watching them play as children, sharing their joy and sorrow, everything?"

His face turned harder as he gazed into the distance, perhaps picturing what she had just described. "I do," he answered hoarsely at last and Padmé felt her stomach clench with regret. 

In front of her inner eyes she saw little Leia again, back on Alderaan when she had left her to flee to Chandrila. That had been just as hard as leaving Luke behind on Tatooine, even if it had been for their best. "Sometimes," she said softly, "sometimes I think they must hate us for what we did to them."

Anakin squeezed her shoulders gently. "Don't ever try to take the blame, Padmé. If it was anyone's fault it was mine and you know it."

She smiled at that. "Always the valiant knight. I should have known you would say that ... But you are wrong. If you had not done what you did, our children would be dead now, or worse. I am thankful for what has happened, even if the price we paid was horrendous."

"Perhaps you are right," he offered hesitantly. "I have not thought about it that way in a long time."

"Do you think Luke will be safe?"

"I hope so. I hope it very much."

Padmé patted her husband's shoulder affectionately as she disengaged from his embrace. "Come. We have another meeting coming up," she told him wearily. He did not answer, and when she looked up at him he gazed at her curiously. "What?"

A sudden smile lit up his face. "You know, I just thought that we may be given the chance to watch their children grow up. Do you think that will ease some of the regret we feel for not having been able to share that with them?"

"I am sure it will!" she laughed and went forward to hug him once again. "Do you want to break it to Leia or shall I?"

"They think you are leading the attack!" Irek was laughing out loud, his eyes shining with incredulity. His honest mirth was somewhat lost on the Grand Admiral, who stood in front of the command chair and gave the youth a very cold look. He had recognized the maneuver as a trap designed to goad the Executor into assuming a more predictable course of action. From what he had seen form Irek so far it was clear that the boy would fall for it too. 

"A foolish assumption," Thrawn said under his breath, meaning Irek's comment, but the boy interpreted the whispered words differently.

"Foolish?" Irek straightened abruptly and his blue eyes seemed to want to bore a hole into the Chiss' skull. "Why foolish? Why should you not decide to destroy that pitiful republic?"

"Of course," the Grand Admiral answered smoothly, "it might be an option, But not without the Empire's consent and back-up."

"My mother is working on that," the young man countered pensively.

"Indeed. She hopes to rally them behind you and the Executor."

"Do you think it might work?"

"I am almost positive that it will have the desired effect." Let Irek work that one out. The desired effect, of course, was dependent on one's point of view and Thrawn for one was certain that the Executor's presence in New Republic space would indeed rally a respectable fleet. Just not one that was inclined to follow, except in pursuit.

"Then we should choose a suitable target, don't you think? A planet?" Leaning forward eagerly, Irek was staring at him like a man at the brink of starvation. 

Thrawn felt slightly uncomfortable with the way Irek had been treating him since that unfortunate incident at Ord Mantell. One moment he acted like a man meeting a child-hood idol, the next he did not bother to hide his contempt for everything the Grand Admiral stood for. It was as if he had not yet decided what it should be, worship or hatred. He had not mentioned Roganda again until today either, and somehow Thrawn believed that to be a bad omen. "Not a planet," he said calmly. "If you threaten civilians you might lose support rather than gain it. It is a game of strategy and tactics and it is considered to be reserved exclusively to the military."

"The military," Irek echoed, the fervent student once more. "So, if I am in command of this ship, I can play the game against other commanders?"

"Yes."

The boy gave a sharp nod. "Good!" A smile spread on his young face, half malevolent glee, half wonder. "Then I will find us a target and then we shall play."

Admiral Tomas Piett was in trouble. He had noticed the men shadowing him just five minutes earlier and already he was certain that they would not be easily fooled by the usual game of hide and seek. Well, it had been too good to last. After having secured the allegiances of Chandrila and its neighbors, he had traveled to Obora-skai, knowing full well that Imperial space was just a few clicks away. Yet he had deemed it necessary to have an asset close to the border, both out of tactical and political reasons. Additionally Obroa-skai featured one of the most extensive libraries in the galaxy, aside from the one on Coruscant. It contained knowledge he believed should not be given up to the Imperial remnant that easily. 

Unfortunately Obora-skai knew of its worth and he expected the negotiations to be the hardest so far – if he even got the chance to start them at all. Steering his rented speeder into another side alley, he mused about how to proceed. If he simply walked into the government complex, he could not be certain if an Imperial representative had not arrived ahead of him, and that could become very awkward indeed. Obroa-skai was neutral ground, officially, after the attack by Imperial forces had been blunted in the last war, all but claiming the planet for the Rebel Alliance. No one had asked the population of Obroa-skai what government they preferred, though, if given the chance. 

Over the past weeks he had been extremely lucky in his negotiations, but then, he had selected the easiest targets to begin his mission. Chandrila had played a vital part in the past war and the death of Governor Gorji Tieman at Grand Admiral Thrawn's orders had ensured the planet's loyalty to the Alliance. Now, with the New Republic building up its influence, Chandrila and its neighbours had more to gain from joining the Republic, if the Empire did not make some fundamental changes in the way it worked. Not much chance of that happening. 

It were the worlds untouched by the war that had the Admiral more concerned. How would systems like Kuat react? He could not be certain. And yet it was vital for the new government to gain allies fast, although it also brought dangers with it, since the Empire would not allow the New Republic to take over just like that. Additionally he suspected that some people even agreed with the Empire's rule, people like the governors and moffs, who only stood to lose, should the New Republic win this diplomatic war. 

Therefore Tomas Piett strongly suspected that his stalkers were indeed Imperial agents who would try to neutralize him quietly, or not so quietly, depending on what course of action the Empire chose to take. They could afford another war easily, contrary to the Republic. As expected, the stalkers followed him at a respectful distance. Six swoops, agile craft that was perfect for a ground pursuit, but fairly useless in combat. Calling up a city map, he noticed that they were trying to herd him toward a less populated area, where undoubtedly another team was waiting to strike. But he knew Obroa-skai fairly well, and there might be a chance to lose his pursuers. 

He jerked the controls upward and the speeder shot skyward at high speed. The six swoops followed instinctively, intent only on their quarry. A few moments later the Admiral was hailed by flight security. 

"Aircraft 134, you are not authorized to use the upper flight lanes. Please return to ground immediately," a bored voice announced over the security patrol speeder's loudspeaker system.

He switched to an emergency channel that could be received by the patrol. "Negative," Piett responded calmly. "Have lost control over steerage."

"How can anyone loose control over a speeder?" the flight controller was wondering angrily. At that moment the swoops bore down on the two speeders and if they did not want to provoke a collision, both the larger vehicles had to give up their position. "What the – " the flight controller cursed. "Emergency in sector 15!" he yelled, undoubtedly calling for reinforcements. 

Suddenly the comm console on the speeder's control board started blinking. Piett accepted the call with a wry grimace. "What can I do for you?"

"Too bad you want to go play this the hard way, Admiral," a breathy voice told him. "Are you in for a rough ride?"

Forgoing an answer, Tomas let his speeder veer off toward the ground once more. He was not an ace pilot, his field of expertise lying more in matters of tactics and strategy, and he was certain that the swoop gang had far better control over their craft than he did. Undoubtedly they knew that, too. "Execute cruise speed 7 and switch to auto-pilot," he ordered the speeder control quietly. The computer did as commanded and Piett unholstered his blaster while twisting out of the flight harness. He punched the lock of the exit hatch and found that it was locked. Security protocol, of course. A quick examination showed that the speeder's interior was not shielded, luckily, and a single shot from his blaster burned the hatch lock away easily. Two hard kicks sent it flying into the air and tumbling away. 

Risking a look he saw that two security patrols were now hard on their trail. The speeder performed a bone-jarring break and turn to avoid crashing into a building and Piett was well aware of the fact that at this high speed every second could mean doom for him and the vehicle. But he was almost there. Up ahead a tunnel opened up and he was closing in on it fast. "Execute cruise speed 4 and angle seven degrees left." The speeder did a drunken turn and, holding on to the crash harness as the vehicle slowed abruptly, Piett vaulted the exit hatch and used the speeder's tilt to the left to cushion his fall as he dropped to the ground in the shadow of the tunnel wall. Rolling with the movement he hoped very much that he had fooled his pursuers into believing that he was still on board the speeder. 

Tomas Piett crouched in the shadows and lifted his blaster slowly. Taking aim he let off three shots aimed at the speeder fuelage. The vehicle exploded in a glorious fire-ball and to his great satisfaction took three of the swoops into oblivion with it. Unfortunately that still left three more. 

He turned and raced for the tunnel mouth and into the open again. Overhead the two security patrol speeders hovered uncertainly. The roar of approaching craft was the Admiral's sole warning before the remaining pursuers veered around and sped toward the tunnel opening once more. But they had forgotten one thing. Two meters away from the smiling Admiral the swoops slowed dramatically and a red holo signal flashed above their riders' heads, reminding them that they were taking the wrong direction. Tunnel security had short-circuited the swoops' engines, a useful installation to prevent accidents, or to shake off all too eager pursuers. 

The two security patrols were slowly descending toward the ground and Piett knew that he should not remain much longer. If the Empire truly had moved into Obroa-skai, it would not look good to have himself arrested in a silly speeder chase. On the other hand they might offer protection. The whine of a swoop coming from up ahead surprised him, though. Had he lost count of his pursuers? The swoop pulled up beside him and the rider, wearing goggles and black gloves, urged him to join her on the vehicle. Making a split-second decision, Piett took the offer. 

"You are hard to find, Admiral!" the woman shouted as he swung himself onto the craft behind her.

"Who are you?" he shouted back.

"Raisa Tobyn. No time to chat now, just hang on." Without another word she let the swoop accelerate again, headed for what he dearly hoped was safety. 

Evening was coming on already on Coruscant and the meeting was still not finished. "We are giving them a chance to solve this diplomatically and avert a war," Padmé was just saying. "Should they cross us now, they will lose face if they truly attack. Anakin, you said that the scheme, as far as we have uncovered it until now, warrants the suspicion that Markhan wanted to try a civil offensive first. Do you think he will hold to that strategy?"

Anakin shook his head and placed his hands on the table in front of him slowly. "Knowing Markhan, the answer must be no. Remember, he still has more than enough troops to defeat us the conventional way. Of course he now risks renewed rebellion, should he strike." He gave Mon Mothma a questioning glance. "How are the opinion polls?"

"Very good, actually," the President replied. "The majority agrees with my course of action."

"That is indeed good news," the Dark Lord said with a smile. "The question is, though, if they will sanction another war, should it come to that."

"They'll have to bear with us, won't they?" Padmé injected with a smile. "It's not as if they had a choice."

"Not quite true," Mon Mothma explained. "It really depends on Ryloth now. If they state that the Imperial forces truly are not an occupational force then the Empire will have a point in their favor and our not so subtle accusations will cost us." She threw a tired look at Anakin. "Lord Skywalker, your agent has not reported back yet?"

"No. I am not even sure if he is still alive."

"Which would be a shame. If we could have proof that the Empire's actions are anything but legal ..." The door opened and an aide took a timid step into the meeting room. "Yes?" Mon Mothma asked mildly.

"Madam, General Page has returned from his mission. And a Noghri, who claims to be one of your agents, Lord Skywalker."

"That would be Andarack," Anakin explained. "Why didn't General Page check in once he was safely on his way here?"

"Perhaps we should ask him personally," Padmé told him with a smile and laid a hand on his arm. A warm tingle spread through his entire body at her touch and he in turn moved to cover her tiny hand in his affectionately. She gave him one of her beautiful smiles and for a moment everything else was forgotten. Only the arrival of both Andarack and Telmann Page broke the spell. Mon Mothma rose from her seat, an uncharacteristically impatient move from her. 

"Welcome home, General!" she exclaimed and gave Page a short nod. "Excuse the hurry, but your report might change everything."

His lips twisted into a grim line as he stood to attention, and his eyes hardened all of a sudden. "I fear it will do exactly that," he began, his voice rough and full of emotion. What Anakin could sense from him was mostly determination, but also suppressed fear. 

"Please proceed," Mon Mothma told the General, sitting back down, her eyes wide in anticipation.

"Very well. I met with Lord Skywalker's agent, Cesh Kendar, at Kala'uun, and he introduced me to a local rebel cell, which was busted the very night by Imperial troops."

"A coincidence?" Padmé inquired wth a frown marring her face.

"Hardly that," Telmann Page snorted softly. "The rebels had been set up by an old friend of ours. Apparently Roj Kell promised them his assistance, only to sell them out to the Empire. He told me personally that he had not wanted their rebellion to succeed. But I am ahead of myself. Apparently the Empire wanted to start a rebellion, too, once the Princess had been brought to Nal Hutta."

"A distraction, I see," Mon Mothma mused aloud. "The Hutts would have been busy with quelling the rebellion on Ryloth, while our troops would descend on Nal Hutta to free Leia. And we would have gotten rid of the Hutts for Markhan that way, without him having to spare troops himself, giving him the chance to attack our borders at his leisure."

"Yes. That was the plan. Roj Kell countered that move by initiating a rebellion at an earlier point of time, thereby forcing the Empire to come to their ally's aid, whether they wanted it or not."

"So Joral is truly allied with Markhan!" Padmé exclaimed.

"Was, my lady. I was captured on Ryloth, along with Roj Kell, and we were both brought before Joral. Kell told the Hutt to the face, and in presence of the Captain conducting the Imperial operations, that Markhan was using him as bait for our troops. For some reason Joral had anticipated that and had the Imperial captain shot. He had a message for the New Republic and the Empire."

"Which would be?" the President asked suspiciously.

"He says the Hutts will not interfere. If we need assistance in regards to Ryloth, though, he will give it gladly."

"What about the message for the Empire?"

"The message clearly states that the Hutts will not interfere in the Empire's struggle with the New Republic, but that their deal is ended. The curious thing is, that Joral believed Roj Kell acted on someone else's orders, someone with the Imperial remnant, but not Markhan. Apparently that same someone had supplied the Hutt with insider information."

"Interesting," Anakin conceded. "So we have conflicting interests within the Empire, but we already knew that. Who carried that message?"

"Roj Kell."

Anakin gave a low chuckle. Roj Kell headed toward Imperial space? "He agreed?"

"Yes. By the way, Yana Dar is accompanying him."

Telmann Page could see that this particular piece of information hardly thrilled the assembly. Not that he had expected it to. And that had not even been the bad news. He shifted his shoulders in some discomfort and folded his hands on his back to keep them still as he continued: "That is not all. I do not know whether we can safely assume that Yana Dar is allied with Markhan – "

"She is not, " Anakin Skywalker interrupted him calmly. "We have been able to confirm that, at least."

"Good. That's something after all, to know that we have an ally who is now unfortunately in the Grand Admiral's hands," the General replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

"Who says she is an ally of ours?"

"I see. Anyway," he interrupted himself, focusing again on his report, "Kell told me that the Chiss are being invaded as we speak. With the loss of the Executor and Thrawn that leaves them pretty vulnerable, I should think. Perhaps I should add that it was Kell who provoked said invaders into attacking the Chiss. He was very clear on that. He said that we needed to focus again on survival or something to that effect."

"What?" Jumping up from his seat the Dark Lord stared at Page in disbelief. "Why would he do that?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps he has simply lost it."

"No, no," Skywalker said impatiently, "it is not that. But what is his goal? Now that we have achieved balance...." he let his voice trail off and they could see his thoughts ticking away relentlessly. The conclusion he came to did not seem to be a happy one, though. "I see," the Dark Lord breathed at last, before he went to sit down again. "So, Yana Dar in Markhan's clutches, Kell supposedly too, and the Chiss are tied up in fighting off an invasion. which means that the Empire has no need to watch their backs."

"That about says it all," Page commented. "Except for the Hutts. I believe we can rely on Joral to keep his hands out of this."

"Yes," Mon Mothma answered. "The Empire might not know what is going on in the Unknown Regions, but they will find out, should those invaders manage to get past the Chiss. Fact is that we are facing an invasion too, and we cannot spare anyone." Her dark eyes hardened all of a sudden. "You, Padmé, will leave for Ryloth today. They are undoubtedly expecting that anyway, but there will be no offical announcement either. I will give you the necessary documents to prove that Cesh Kendar has diplomatic status. Andarack may accompany you as bodyguard. Lord Skywalker, your mission to Honoghr will have to wait. General Page, I will need you here, until Admiral Piett is back. I have already alerted Captain Needa to our situation and he is the process of assembling a battle-group to counter the Executor's attack, should it come. We need to neutralize that threat before Grand Admiral Markhan decides to strike. Everything else will have to wait until Leia has returned from Yaga Minor."

The President leaned back in her chair and a smile lit up her face unexpectedly. "Lord Skywalker is right, we _have_ achieved balance, and if we handle this situation well, the wildfire will burn itself out before it can become critical. This is our test, as a new republic. I know that I can rely on you all to do your job to the best of your knowledge and abilities. I want to tell you here and now, that I trust you with the fate of the New Republic. That is all. Thank you. Lord Skywalker, a word with you, if you please," she added.

Telmann Page found himself leaving the meeting room at the Senior Analyst's side, and she promptly lay a hand on his arm to gain his attention. "General," she said softly, "I would appreciate it greatly if you could outline conditions on Ryloth for us." Here she nodded at the Noghri, who had been keeping silent thus far and was now hovering at Padmé's other side. 

"Of course," Page replied smoothly. "Come. Let's go find someplace quiet. My office will do, I believe."

The Star Destroyer Eisenhart was cruising peacefully through space in the middle of nowhere; a phalanx of three more Star Destroyers, two Mon Calamari cruisers and numerous corvettes accompanied the flagship of the New Republic's Second Fleet. Its commander, Captain Lorth Needa, was currently fighting hard against falling asleep at his desk. He knew he should rest, but the news out of Coruscant had been overwhelming and had kept him busy for the past 34 hours, non-stop. With the situation on Ryloth not yet solved he could not possibly demand that his group be joined by the First and Third, and they had not enough ships anyway. Additionally he did not believe in pulling too large a contingent together, because no matter how efficient the troops, small groups were always more agile.

"So, we will have three more ships joining us over the next two days," he mused aloud. "The question is, even if the Executor's commander takes the insult as bait, where will he strike?"

The intercomm interrupted his thoughts brutally and as he accepted the call he gave a weary smile: "That answers that question, then."

"Captain to the bridge please, we have something here, coming out of hyperspace fast," Commander Teer Shikay's voice was terse, and Needa shook his head tiredly.

"It's not the Executor, is it?"

"How did you guess, sir?"

Suddenly wide awake, Lorth Needa leapt to his feet, not bothering to answer his second's weak attempt at a joke. This was certainly not the time for that. Jogging toward the bridge amidst the wail of alarm sirens, he pulled his commlink from his belt and contacted Shikay again: "Establish a channel to Coruscant, live-feed. I want them to see what is going on out here. Scramble all fighter squadrons and move into pyramid formation. Flagship top."

"Yes, sir. At once."

__

Now we'll see how good their commander really is, the Captain thought grimly to himself. _Of course, if it's Thrawn, we are already dead. _

"Luck," Erinin commented coolly as the fleet up ahead moved into position. Or maybe not, considering that Irek had led them here like a Nek who had picked up the scent of wounded prey. Those four Star Destroyers and two giant Mon Cal cruisers certainly did not look like easy meat, but then, this ship had delivered a killing blow to the forces assembled against them at Ord Mantell. Or rather, Irek had. The bodyguard turned his head tentatively to look at the boy sitting in the command chair, a simile of his father, with his blue eyes boring into infinity and his hands clenching the armrests of his seat as he sat poised for action, intent only on the fleet ahead. 

The absence of a guard standing at his back was confirmation for what had happened back at Ord Mantell. Irek would not allow anyone to advise or protect him any longer; he had seized control and meant to keep it. Even Erinin was subject to that rule and the boy had outright reprimanded him for ever having brought up eliminating Thrawn after the battle at Ord Mantell had ended. _Have a care, my friend, that you do not become the liability you describe the Grand Admiral to be. _The bodyguard remembered the look in Irek's eyes most vividly. Much older than his years, more vicious than ever before. Resuming his study of the enemy ships, Erinin felt uncertain for the very first time in eighteen years. 

All of the Emperor's hopes seemed to have been set into his son, but perhaps Palpatine had been mistaken about his heir. And maybe he had not revealed all of his entire plan to his loyal servant. Erinin strongly suspected that now, and even though he had been brought up not to question orders, he was wondering of what use a madman could be to the Empire. 

His eyes wandered toward the Chiss seated in one of the many spare seats that had been left after the original crew had been eliminated. Grand Admiral Thrawn looked the worst for wear, his features slack and his glowing eyes dimmed somewhat. He must be suffering greatly, with the fate of his troops uncertain and hope far out of reach. Yet his gaze was that of a warrior, taking in the situation of his ship automatically. 

The bodyguard saw the Grand Admiral frown suddenly, apparently noticing something odd about the enemy fleet's defensive pattern. Erinin thought that for a split-second Thrawn considered looking back at Irek to check if the boy had seen what he had. It was a measure of the man's condition that his usually cool composure had cracked like this. Yet for some perverse reason Erinin chose not to inform the boy of this interesting slip.

"Navigator, bring her up to attack speed." The soft voice was that of a stranger, even if it came from Irek's mouth. 

Toss Halan, acting as navigator, complied without a word. They had all seen what had happened to Thrawn and they all knew that they were walking a thin line between survival and certain doom. Unfortunately Irek held both ends of the string. Anticipating the boy's next order, Erinin moved over to the weapons control station.

"Weapons' status on level seven," he announced quietly and for a moment Irek spared him a somewhat surprised glance that faded into amusement. 

"Excellent. Well done." The sarcastic sting in that apparent praise hurt more than the bodyguard cared to admit to himself. But the boy delighted in the older man's disappointment and suffering pride. "Perhaps you are of some use yet," Irek added maliciously. Suddenly his tone changed to something harsher. "The gunners are in position. Shields?"

"Hundred percent," Anjuri replied, his voice shaking.

"Erinin. Give me a count ten to zero for the weapons' range."

"Five," the bodyguard began coolly and suppressed a smirk," – four – three – two – one – zero." A hailstorm of laser bolts impacted against their shields as the blackness of space turned into dozens of TIE fighters making a strafing run along the giant warship. "What the –"

"Let those pitiful craft not disturb you," Irek told him as he joined the older man to study the weapons control unit's display intently. Instincively Erinin moved aside. There was something about the boy, a dark presence that repulsed him. 

"My lord," Halan called out, "our current course sends us directly into their formation!"

"They'll scatter and present suitable targets for our guns," the boy replied confidently. "They cannot possibly believe they can stand against this ship." His eyes took on a fervent light. "We are invincible and they know it."

"She's taken the bait, sir," Commander Shikay announced solemnly, his eyes never leaving the radar. 

A tiny sigh of relief wrought itself from Lorth Needa's throat. "Thank the Force for small miracles. I suppose that means the Grand Admiral truly is dead." He nodded to himself and his mood sombered again. Thrawn had been possibly the best strategist this galaxy had ever seen, and his death would weigh heavy on the future developments in the galaxy. Right now though that did not matter, he knew, all that did was the battle ahead. "Recall the fighters for a weave-and-scissor maneuver. At my mark."

"At once. Flight commanders, check in, please," Shikay spoke calmly into his head comm. The TIE flight commanders rattled off their names and status swiftly. 

"Commander, we will engage the enemy in thirty seconds. I want this formation to drop into a sphere once the Executor has crossed the event horizon. Alert the other ship commanders and keep them online"

"As ordered."

Leaning forward, the Captain narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the approaching Super Star Destroyer, tracking its response fire. "First flight is to make a scouting run over the surface. How many intact gun emplacements?" While Shikay relayed the order, Needa was so intent on the TIEs assembling at the rear of the Executor that he almost missed the incoming call. He turned his head to throw Communications a questioning glance. 

"It's Coruscant, sir," the woman said apologetically.

"Why didn't you say so, then?" the Captain asked coolly, but ignored her flustered apology as he accepted the call. "This is Captain Needa."

"Skywalker here. What is your position?"

"We are still gathering information about the enemy's condition, but we should have results any time now. Meanwhile we are engaging her in a pyramid – sphere formation."

"She took the bait?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Captain, what would be the most efficient response to such a maneuver as you are executing?"

"Launching fighters and provoking a stand-off. It doesn't look as if she will follow that reasoning, though."

"Stay sharp. Your estimate?"

"Grand Admiral Thrawn is definitely not in command of the Executor, and I haven't seen any activity that would forgo the conclusion that they will launch TIEs. In fact–" here he squinted at the report the commander of First Flight was filing just now, "–in fact it looks as if they faced a pretty shrewd opponent in their last combat situation. At least five hangars have been jammed by external concussions."

"It didn't help their opponent much, though. I have a report here that acknowledges Warlord Zsinj's fleet a total loss at Ord Mantell."

"A reliable report?"

"Made by my daughter."

"I take that as a yes, sir." It occurred to Needa only then that he had been conferring with the Dark Lord as if he would with another commander, an equal. It was a somewhat unsettling discovery and he felt embarrassment creep up on him slowly. 

"You are doing very well, Captain," Skywalker said suddenly, as if anticipating the other's thoughts. 

"Thank you. Here she comes. Mark!" 

Behind him Commander Shikay bellowed an order at the flight commanders and the TIEs began their run, zigzagging over the attacking ship's hull and weaving around it in complex patterns that the giant ship's gunners had a hard time following. Lorth Needa allowed himself a tight smile as the capital ships of his fleet moved into a loose sphere, taking the Executor in their midst. They obediently held their fire, but that would change this very moment. 

"Gentlemen," the Captain said with undeniable delight at a trap well-spun, "engage at will."

The Grand Admiral had watched impassively while the giant warship cruised into the trap laid out by the opposing fleet as blindly as a bantha in heat charging into quick-sand. He had to hand it to the fleet commander, the man was certainly no fool. A flight of six TIEs sped past, probably on a scouting run. The Executor's guns blazed after them wildly. All of her guns. Twisting around in his seat, the Chiss glowered at Irek angrily. Was the boy totally insane? Irek, his face fixed in utmost concentration, Irek was fairly ignorant of Thrawn's reaction and that was just as well. Perhaps. Then a direct hit sent a boom through the entire structure, startling the bridge crew. Turning his head back to watch the enemy fighters dodging the Super Star Destroyer's guns in a beautifully complex pattern, Thrawn almost smiled. 

"They got through the shields!" Anjuri called out. 

"How?" Erinin demanded coldly as he stepped up to the other for reasons Thrawn could not fathom. The bodyguard was an excellent fighter, but no tactician. 

"I don't know! There was an explosion in sector sixteen–"

Ah, that would have been one of the unmanned gun emplacements. The Grand Admiral felt admiration for their opponent rise gradually in his mind and some of his hope returned with it. A battle against as worthy an opponent as this fleet commander was proving to be would cost Irek immensely. The boy could not possibly keep up his concentration _that_ long. And once he was weakened .... 

Thinking back on his bodyguard's valiant but ultimately ineffective attempt at seizing control, Thrawn realized that if even a Sith could not manage to overwhelm this group, he did not have much chance either. Not on his own. As he had noted already, Erinin was one of the best he had ever seen on a battle-field. 

More hits impacted against the Executor's hull and the ship's return fire became even more erratic. 

"Thrawn," a strained voice called out. He turned his head back to look at Irek.

"Yes, my lord?"

"What would you advise me to do?"

"Advise you, my lord? I would never allow myself to give advice to the likes of you."

"I am serious," the boy said between gritted teeth, sweat beading his brow.

"Really."

"Don't play games, Grand Admiral," Erinin snapped. "What is going on?"

"Their commander has set a trap and you fell neatly for it. In short, we are losing this battle."

"So what? Do we retreat?" Erinin sought confirmation with Irek, who in turn stared at Thrawn, eyes unblinking. Finally the boy gave a sharp nod. 

"We retreat. Navigator, get us out of here."

The Executor accelerated, taking the only way out of the enemy formation Toss Halan could see, which was forward. It was a relief that the ship would probably survive this in moderate shape. He needed her intact, and he would do anything to bring her back to Nirauan. If - Driving hard toward open space, the Super Star Destroyer was still harried by enemy fighters and one glance at Irek saw the boy's eyes closed as he tried to relax somewhat. The Grand Admiral's face blanched when he realized that his ship and troops were indeed at the mercy of madmen.

"Watch the aft shields, you idiot!" he roared, startling not only the navigator. Rising from his seat, Thrawn gritted his teeth in disgust. "All right. I am taking over from here on." 

"We will try to cripple them by taking out the main drive," Captain Needa explained to the Dark Lord who was surveying the battle from lightyears away.

"Excellent. If you can board her, I am certain that the regular troops will not give you much trouble."

"That was what I thought, too."

"I know." Now there was a hint of amusement in Skywalker's tone. "Still, I would not dismiss the possibility that Grand Admiral Thrawn is still alive. He is perhaps simply held captive."

"You are saying that, if we board, they might use him as hostage?"

"Yes."

"I see." Lips twitching thoughtfully, the Captain gazed out at the fleeing ship. "Perhaps boarding might not be such a good idea after all."

"It is, if you are willing to take the risk."

Suddenly an alarm blared over the bridge and the forward screen brought up a visual list of the TIE squadrons. Five ships had turned red, marking them losses. "What happened?" Needa snapped, frowning.

"They are launching proton torpedoes," Teer Shikay informed him.

"I had really wondered what had kept them from using those so far."

There was a sharp intake of breath to be heard from the open comm channel. "Because it is a far simpler process to activate guns than launch torpedoes. Our foe has been taking the easy way out so far. I wonder what made him change his mind?"

"You mean – "

"If Irek Ismaren is controlling the gun emplacements, that would explain the weak and erratic response. You built your tactics on that assumption, Captain, knowing full well what sort of concentration it costs to keep track of a flight of TIEs, let alone five. And additionally coordinating the gunners effectively through such a maneuver as you had your commanders execute is very hard, even for a Force-user."

"Why is he responding with torpedoes now, then?" Needa asked when one came particularly close to ripping into the Eisenhart's hull. 

"Too many answers to that question. Just try to keep your troops together."

"They are accelerating," Commander Shikay announced suddenly.

"Let them go," the Captain sighed. "Lord Skywalker?"

"Yes?"

"How do you propose to take the Executor out?"

"Wearing her down would be our safest bet, but we might not have the time. I want you to pursue at a safe distance. Do not engage her again, clear? Just keep an eye out on her activities."

"Yes, sir, as ordered. And, if I may ask, does your participation in this battle mean that you have been reinitiated as Fleet Commander?"

There was a pause on the other end. "These are dire times, Captain. Anything might be possible." 

"Ah," Needa mused aloud as the connection broke, "I thought so."

TBC


	13. Chapter 12 - The Trap is Sprung

****

Chapter 12 – The Trap is Sprung

Padmé was busy packing when Anakin returned from his meeting with the President. He stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, watching her with a faint smile. But there was a hint of sorrow around his eyes. Suspending her activity Padmé walked over to him and cocked her head to one side, studying him intently. 

"What has happened now?" she asked at last. 

"The Executor has entered New Republic space. I have set Needa's Second Fleet on her trail."

"How many ships does that tie up?"

"Not too many."

"And what will you be doing while I am busy on Ryloth?"

"Something useful, I hope," he answered with a wry smile.

"You will lead the navy again?"

"No. According to Mon Mothma it is my task to prevent any enemy fleet from getting_ into _our territory. Beyond that I have no authority."

Padmé propped her hands on her hips. "How is that supposed to work?"

"Any way I can make it work, my love." Bending down to kiss her he sighed. "I wish Leia were back already," he announced once they had disengaged again. Suddenly his blue eyes lit up. "Piett has checked back in. Seems as if Raisa arrived just in time to get him out of trouble. He has aborted the mission on Obroa-skai."

"Then he is coming back to Coruscant?"

"No. I managed to convince Mon Mothma that he might be of use elsewhere." There was a hint of something there, the way he said it - 

"Out with it, Anakin, where are you sending him?"

He hesitated briefly and his expression turned serious once more. "Bilbringi."

"Why there?"

"Because it is a busy planet and makes an excellent hide-out for wanted traitors."

Padmé's eyes widened. "You mean – "

"Yes. If Andorwyn and his cronies managed to escape they will seek refuge in New Republic space for a time. Leia hinted that they might be interested in forming an alliance and they will be given the chance to approach Piett there."

"Provided they really turn up on Bilbringi," she reminded him pensively.

"It doesn't really matter," Anakin replied, spreading his hands in an appeasing gesture. "They will come. They have no choice, if they want to survive."

His words struck a distant cord in her heart and she looked up at him quickly to see that he had also realized what he had said. For an instance his face turned very dark. "Anakin," she asked quietly, "what did he mean by that?" They both knew that she was referring to what news Telmann Page had brought of Roj Kell's plan.

Her husband kept silent for a long time, but finally he met her fearful gaze and stroked her cheek gently. "It is a challenge. Back on Korriban he promised that he would see the Sith rule, no matter what. He wanted_ me_ to rule. I refused that gracious offer."

"I remember," Padmé said softly, lowering her eyes in deep contemplation of the events of the past. Korriban had been a near-disaster for her family and she did not want it to be repeated. Under no circumstances. "But we defeated him in the end. And you withstood temptation."

"This time I might not have a choice - "

Reaching up quickly she pressed her fingers on his lips, silencing him. "Ssh! Never, ever say something like that again," she pleaded, concern and worry flaring in her mind. "It could get you killed yet."

"I know." He gently pushed her hand away. "But I must consider every option. Roj Kell always has his reasons for manipulating others, especially the Jedi and Sith. When he was here on Coruscant he confided in Master Yoda and me, told us that he wanted to achieve true balance. When you look at his past you will see that, too."

"Don't make him something he can never be," Padmé told her husband coldly. 

"I am not. But I believe that so far he has led us with a gentle hand. His actions now prove that he is willing to risk wholesale destruction to achieve his goal."

"Gentle! That man is as gentle as a krayt dragon! He is poison to anyone around him! And don't tell me that his intentions are valiant! If he is so fond of destruction he will certainly not object to being destroyed himself!" She stopped, her chest heaving with ire, and saw the look in his eyes as he gazed down at her, aghast. Realization overcame her like a cold storm and she threw herself into his embrace with a a desperate wail. "This is what he made of me!" she sobbed, tears flowing freely. "What he will make of you and everyone if you let him!"

"Not if I can help it," Anakin told her very tenderly.

"You must find him," she whispered, her voice almost gone. "Please. Find him before he can bring even more harm to my family."

"I will, I promise," he said and began rocking her in his arms gently. "Our children will be safe. _You_ will be safe."

For a long moment they stood like this, locked in their very own world of love and anguish. Then, heaving a deep, shuddering breath, Padmé broke away from him. Her limbs felt leaden, as if she had aged by a decade in the matter of a heart-beat. "I need to go," she explained. "Andarack is waiting for me." She felt so _old_. 

"Remember what I told you back on board the Wilde Karrde?" Anakin cupped her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him again. There was such strength in his blue eyes that she thought she might be crushed where she stood. She tried a smile and patted his chest affectionately. 

"I do. I will be strong, my love. And I will be reasonable."

"That's all I can ask, I guess." 

He kissed her once more, easing her anxiety and soothing her mind. His love, she found, was the most potent antidote against the dark side of her, and she knew that he felt the same way about her own affections. Leaning into his touch she let it fill her and felt the joy of it in every fiber of her being. Well, she mused, Andarack could wait for a few moments longer. 

When Aves appeared at their tiny hide-out to summon them to Karrde's newly established base on Garqui Jix was very glad for the change of ambiente. Holstering his blasters he gave Mara a silent look that she returned tiredly. They had spent long days waiting for any news to come out of Nar Shadaa as to the exact date of the convoy's arrival. Long hours had passed with the two of them discussing several possibilities of getting into Byss, and their personalities had clashed more than once. 

Mara left the small apartment ahead of him and as Jix followed he felt resignation overcome him gradually. When he had first met Mara he had thought that he had found a match for his own abilities. He had been fascinated by her temper and her looks, but ever since they had left Nar Shadaa after their less than thrilling 'vacation' he had a feeling that something was amiss in their relationship. Mara always suspected him of not taking her seriously, and in a way that was even true. Her training had been excellent, but she had not had a chance to gain much experience yet. 

There had been some bad blood between them, and it was chafing at his confidence, because on one hand he knew he cared for her and wanted to please her, but on the other hand her sometimes very childish assumptions were getting on his nerves. She was not cocky, the way he had been at her age, she was desperately trying to achieve perfection, and she was trying too hard. Ever so often she would challenge him for no reason at all, just to prove to herself that she was no child, that she was a professional like him. Sometimes he thought that what she needed was to be on her own for a while, be her own master and find her own self-confidence and balance. 

"Jix, don't dawdle!" Her voice was tinged with exasperation and displeasure, a mix he found very annoying. But he said nothing. Quickening his pace he caught up with her and fell in step beside her. Her emerald eyes were studying him intently, searching.

"I for one hope it is good news," he ventured at last in an effort to ease the tension between them. 

"It doesn't matter. We have a mission to accomplish."

"Yes, very true."

Before long they had reached the house Karrde had claimed as his own, a non-descript building in a shabby neighborhood. The information broker was seated at his desk and a smile lit up his face when his guests stepped into the room.

"Any news on the convoy?" Mara asked without preamble and strode over to Karrde.

"As a matter of fact, yes. They have left Nar Shadaa on schedule, but that is not all. It seems as if the Empire has no interest in dealing with Yana Dar any longer. Apparently they have seized her property, arrested her employees."

"What about her?"

"Nothing certain. But the two of you should check up on recent events in Hutt Space and Imperial Space. Rumor has it that Grand Admiral Thrawn is attacking the New Republic."

"But you said that was Roganda Ismaren's plot, to make it look that way," Jix countered.

"Indeed. But this is official New Republic material."

"Could be just a ruse."

"I agree. The Empire has reestablished its protectorate on Ryloth. Unofficial sources claim that there was some sort of rebellion, but they are pretty vague about the details."

"Sounds pretty chaotic," the Corellian said with a smile.

"It does," Talon Karrde agreed. "And they have tightened security for the convoy."

"Meaning?"

"Originally a few traders were going to be allowed to come along to shave off a few hours transfer time of the goods, but now they have abandoned that plan and they'll check every single crate that comes on board."

"Damn," Mara hissed under her breath. "This is _not_ good."

"So we will have to get aboard one of their ships somehow, hitch a ride," Jix mused aloud and she rounded on him furiously.

"Are you mad? From Garqui to Byss it is a two day trip. Plenty of time for them to track us down and space us!" Turning back to Karrde she bit her lower lip hard. "Say, is there any chance that we could get into Byss another way?"

"Security will be even tighter for independent ships who arrive at the planet than it will be for the convoy," Karrde explained. "I fear Jix' suggestion is the only plan that'll work."

Locked in hyperspace the convoy to Byss was enjoying a period of relative peace. Yana had given Abla her promise to agree to a cease-fire and he had accepted that promise, knowing that she would never break her word. It had bought her the liberty to wander around the ship at her leisure, and to visit with the second prisoner on board. Abla had no idea who he was, and Yana wondered at that. Tious Markhan seemed to know who he was, yet Abla, his trusted agent, did not. Very strange. For the moment, though, Abla's ignorance suited her just fine. Nodding at the two guards stationed in front of the captive's quarters she went into the bland room beyond. Roj Kell was standing at the viewport, staring out into the glowing starlines of hyperspace. 

"You are back," he said softly, not bothering to turn to face her. Yana took no offense at that and plopped down on the single bunk unconcernedly. 

"Maybe I am simply bored," she suggested.

He chuckled at that. "Is that so. And what do you want to talk about this time?"

"Irek Ismaren." Taking a deep breath the information broker waited for his reaction. 

"Irek Ismaren? I have never heard the name."

"He is your son." There was no visible response, but Yana still felt herself shake with anticipation. For a long time silence reigned.

"My son?" Kell repeated softly at last. "That is impossible..." He turned his head to look at her. 

"It is true." Yana gave a hesitant shrug. "Well, it is, to a certain degree."

Those pale eyes narrowed coldly. "What do you mean?"

"You see, your master was not a man to give up easily," the broker explained as he turned to face her completely.

"My master?"

"The late Emperor. My father."

"He was never my master."

"No?" Yana shrugged again. "Anyway, he was after something you, and only you possessed. Information." She savored each syllable of the word, tasting it with delight. "You know the power of knowledge intimately. Yet you did not realize that he succeeded in his endeavor."

"He did not."

"Ah, but here you are mistaken. On Byss your memory was flash-printed, and an expert team of scientists set to the task of decyphering and cataloguing it. A very talented slicer then developed a program that would be able to imitate your thought processes and evaluate a situation accordingly. He named that program Seeker. A fitting name, don't you think? A seeker of knowledge." Yana mused dreamily.

"Palpatine is dead. So it is of no use to him now."

"Fortunately, yes." She did not mention that it could still be of great use to her, and that she intended to make the most of this opportunity. 

"What was that about a son?"

"Incidentially the boy is the result of a genetic experiment. A clone that combines Palpatine's strength in the Force with your mental capacities. Once the program was finished Palpatine would have taken over the boy's will."

"Too bad he did not live long enough."

"Are you certain of that?"

"What?"

"Are you certain he is truly dead?" Turning pleading eyes on him she felt her heart flutter with sudden dread. If it was true what she secretly suspected about Irek ...

A nasty smile appeared on the ancient Sith's lips. "Trust me on that," he hissed. "So, my dear student was proud and foolish enough not to surrender to his own inability to break my will. He sought another way. A clone." His voice had become a low growl. "That bastard!" Looking up again he met Yana's gaze coldly. "And you. If you think I'll break down in tears of joy over being presented with a long-lost son you are badly mistaken. I don't like anyone trying to manipulate me."

Yana barely managed to keep her smile in place. "But I need your help."

His tone turned even colder. "Do you now. Why?"

"Markhan wants to use me as a decoy, as Empress."

"What?"

"It is the logical step to take, but I fear that I will take my father's path and crave power too much. I do not want power. I do not want to be tempted like that." Her rambling confession came out in a rush, and she shivered at the very thought of becoming as vile a creature as Palpatine. It disgusted her to think of herself that way. 

"And you come to me for help? I taught your father everything about deception and manipulation. How do you know that I would not advise you to take that power and rule?"

"I have studied history – "

"Oh, you have _studied_. And you truly believe that means you have understood?" His tone was incredibly harsh. "Your choices are somewhat limited, Yana Dar. You can try and escape, hide somewhere, rebuild your organization or whatever. Or you can use your knowledge, and I mean your own, to fight back. Power itself is not evil. It may corrupt, but that is up to you. You are in control of your own fate, Yana. That is what your father found hard to accept."

"I think you are wrong there. He was always in control of everything around him," Yana countered quietly. 

"You think so? Power is a convenient excuse for trespassing the boundaries of true control. It is also a powerful catalyst for denial. Your father, Yana, was lost in the Dark Side in the end, and I know the Dark Side well. It is addictive and it deprives power of control. Instead it dominates what is left of your self and blinds you to reality. You say you do not want power – what is it you want, then?"

"Knowledge," she answered without hesitating at all and shied back at the look he gave her. Hunching her shoulders she asked, a bit testily: "Well, what was _your_ motivation, if not gaining knowledge or power?"

"My motivation for what exactly?"

"All of this," she answered expansively. "Your life, your deeds, everything."

He gazed at her for a long time, keeping very still. Finally he averted his eyes and turned to look out of the viewport. "I am what I am, Yana Dar, what I made of myself. A tool for the Force, a source of knowledge, a well of faith."

"Faith?"

"I am Cor'dan. The Force is my life and it is my goal to make others understand its complexity."

Yana stared up at him, her mind racing. She did not know much about the title of Cor'dan, beyond what it stood for. The Heart of Darkness. "If you wanted to spread the belief in the Force, why didn't you join the Jedi then?"

"The Jedi!" he bellowed. "Have you any idea? They never would have allowed any outsider to explore their mysteries. When you were considered too old you would not be allowed to learn even if you had a potential. What about those who did not have any conscious connection to the Force? They were held in awe of the Jedi's power. All they were supposed to give was gratitude. Is that what you call faith?"

"Admittedly it was a kind of elitist order," Yana conceded, her brow creasing in a pensive frown. "So you found your own belief?"

"Everything is part of the Force, Yana. _Everything_. There are no rules that tell you what to believe, you simply believe."

"That is like having faith in chaos and anarchy."

"Yes." The small smile tugging at his lips was positively mean. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

Tious Markhan was intently studying the small red dot that was approaching the planet rapidly, and he could still not believe who had announced his arrival. Admiral Voss Parck, Thrawn's staunchest and only supporter at the Imperial Court and the man who had shared the Grand Admiral's exile after that one's fall from grace. What did he want here on Byss and at this particular time? Did he perhaps have information on the Executor that could be of use? Was he here to ask assistance in freeing Thrawn? 

"I suppose he will tell us anyway," Franzis Sarreti commented quietly and the Grand Admiral shot his aide a fleeting smile. 

"You are reading my mind, Lieutenant, as always." It was a gentle warning and Sarreti recognized it as such. He paled visibly, his cool composure flustered for once. Good.

"Apologies, sir."

"Accepted. Now, would you please go and escort the Admiral to my office? Thank you."

Once the lieutenant had left Tious activated his comm and hailed Zi'Assime once more. The General had obviously expected the call and seemed resigned to his fate. "Sir?" he asked wearily.

"Tomas Piett has escaped your agents on Obroa-skai."

"Yes, sir."

"That is unfortunate. Major Olade will be happy to relieve you of command once he arrives at Yaga Minor. You will surrender to him and return to Byss."

"As ordered."

Markhan's eyes narrowed coldly. "You disappoint me, General."

"Sir?"

"Where is your spirit, man! You hold no responsibility for your agents' failure!" The hopeful smile that crept upon the other's face was stilled as the Grand Admiral continued: "However, I take the blame for giving you command in the first place. My trust in your abilities was misplaced, a remnant of what seems to be long past. You've had your share of glory, General. Perhaps it is time for you to step back and let others continue your work." He gave the other a pensive look. "You realize, don't you, that I am giving you one last chance to prove your worth to me."

"I am not sure, sir – "

"With the Princess on her way back to Coruscant chances are that the New Republic will call for retribution."

"The President specifically declared that there was no war between the Empire and the New Republic," Zi'Assime suggested, a frown creasing his forehead.

"How naive could you possibly be, General? I for one do not believe a single word of that little speech. They will attack, I am certain of that."

"Sir, I – "

"Do not understand?" A malicious smile appeared on Markhan's lips as he watched his second squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. "I thought so. Fact is that Zsinj held the Princess prisoner. But they will not make that distinction public, if they have any sense at all. You will present proof – "

"Zsinj is dead," the General reminded him and fell silent again at the Grand Admiral's withering glare.

"I am aware of that. What do you suggest would happen if an Imperial officer took the blame for this disaster? How credible would that be?" It was highly satisfying to see revelation dawn on Zi'Assime's face. 

"I – see."

"Excellent. I knew there was still some fire left in you."

"My troops – "

"There are always casualties in a war, General, you should know that. You may die for the Empire or a coward. But die you will."

Zi'Assime bowed sharply and Tious deactivated the comm with a cold smile. Sacrificing a pawn became easier if the pawn in question proved to be a total failure as the General had. He would obey this last command, the Grand Admiral was certain of that, and take the blame for the disaster at Yaga Minor. His confession would avert an attack on Yaga Minor, regardless of any efforts the Princess might make in blaming a dead man. The masses so loved tragic heroes. And if a man admitted to such a hideous crime as treason, who would not condemn him? Of course, it would only buy them breathing space of a few weeks at the most, but that might be enough to make the changes necessary for the plan to still succeed. 

The discreet beep of the surveillance camera mounted outside his office alerted him to the arrival of his aide, their visitors in tow. A Twi'lek bodyguard for the Admiral. Interesting. The door slid open to reveal the newcomers and Sarreti preceeded them into his superior's office quietly. Tious rose from his seat with a smile and came around the table to extend his hand in greeting. Voss Parck hesitated a fraction before taking that offer. Another interesting fact to remember. Did he believe he might not be welcome with his peers? If so, he had every reason to. After all, Thrawn had betrayed the Empire and that move made every one of his followers traitors, too. Yet the Admiral could be of use to Markhan still.

Schooling his features in a polite expression expression Tious said: "Admiral. It is a pleasure." 

A cool smile appeared on the other's face and Tious remembered too late that Voss Parck was no fool and an excellent warrior. There was hardly anything that escaped his notice and not much that could surprise him. 

"The pleasure is all mine," the Admiral replied. "But why Byss?"

"I suppose it comes as a shock to a man who has spent the past years in the wilderness of the Unknown Regions."

A faint look of puzzlement flickered across the other's face. "Yes. Indeed. And the reason?"

"tt is as convenient a place to have a base as any other," Markhan snapped.

"There are far more pleasant worlds, Grand Admiral, and this was Palpatine's secret center, after all."

The suggestion hung unspoken between them and Tious had an urge to simply have the man put away with, but he hesitated. "You are right, Admiral. The possibilities this planet's installations offer are enormous. You will understand that it is in the Empire's best interests to make use of them."

"Certainly. Please accept my apologies for assuming too much." 

"By all means, they are accepted. And what brings you back here? The Grand Admiral?"

"You know, of course."

"Yes. Alas we have heard the news from Coruscant. I am very interested in hearing your side of the story. It is said that Grand Admiral Thrawn is bent on conquering the New Republic, but surely that would be a foolish endeavor to undertake even for him."

Voss Parck gave him a hard glance and a thin smile. "Indeed. Yet we assume that the Grand Admiral did not, in fact, order this attack."

"No?" Markhan's brows rose in faked surprise. "Please, Admiral, tell me more."

"The Admiral's crew reports no hostilities upon their arrival," the Chimaera's comm officer told his superior, who heaved a relieved sigh.

"That is good news, after all," Captain Palleon breathed aloud. "Now, if he can convince them that the threat we are facing concerns them too and weighs more than past treason, we are a lot closer to actually accomplishing anything." His expresson turned grim. "Which reminds me – Any reports filed by Master Chi'in?"

"None have arrived so far."

"None? He did not even check back in?"

"He did, sir. Two days ago."

"Yes, I remember. Thank you." His face darkened even more. "How long would it take, in your estimate, to gather the status reports from the field commanders?"

"Sir?"

"Never mind. It was a rethorical question. Hail the Ardana Ver at once." Palleon watched the comm installed into his command chair nervously. He knew exactly that it would never take Chi'in two days to gather information and relay it back to the base, especially not in a combat situation. Something was very wrong out there. He cursed himself for having relied too much on the Noghri's abilities and having paid more attention to securing the base than to his primary scout. Foolish, foolish!

"I have a signal, sir!"

"Put it through." Static greeted the Captain, but he thought he could make out a voice in there somewhere. It became more distinct after a few seconds. But it was no language that Palleon recognized. "Master Chi'in!" he called, just in case. There was a shriek and a crash that was almost loud enough to damage the Captain's ear drum.

"Sir, that sounded – "

"Bad. Someone smashed the comm, I believe. Which means the Ardana Ver has been captured. Try to establish contact with the forward bases."

"Sir, protocol – "

"To hell with protocol!" The officer was right, of course. Security was very tight for the Chiss forward bases, since any signal exchanged between Nirauan and the secret perimeter stations might give away their position. Which was why they had needed Chi'in to go out there in the first place.

"Sir?" Fear made the comm officer's voice tremble. "They do not answer."

"As I had feared. Chi'in was probably trying to get news back to us when they surprised him."

"What are we going to do now?"

"Try to hold out until we get reinforcements. Communications with Almashin is still possible, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Do you want a channel to Syndic Bal'maw'narda?"

The Captain noticed that he was chewing his lips unconsciously, never a good idea for a man with a a moustache. He stopped himself, annoyed. "Hold that. The Morning Glory is still in sector seven, correct?"

"Yes. Skywalker and Sarin are flying out supplies."

"Hail them and summon them to the base. At once." Staring grimly at the viewport toward Nirauan he sent a fervent prayer to the Force. _Admiral, whatever the price, just hurry!_

Crouching in the protection of a thicket of round-leaved bushes that Chi'in was almost certain were not poisonous the Noghri warrior watched with a heavy heart as his ship was being demolished. The small yacht had served him well over the past year, especially in the hostile territories of the Unknown Regions and against exactly those aliens that were destroying her now. No time to mourn his loss, though. He could not simply sit here and wait for help to arrive that he had no chance of calling anyway. Not at this distance. There was only one thing he could do and that was to eliminate the threat to his life and take possession of one of the strange starfighters these beings used. Seven had followed him in on his headlong plunge, and more were descending even now. 

He had embraced the Force fully to enhance his awareness of his surroundings beyond the natural limits of his hunters' instincts, and his senses told him that he was being watched. A quick count of the fighters compared with the number of beings clamouring around the Ardana Ver brought confirmation. There were seven vessels, but only four pilots. Assuming these were single craft he had three stalkers already on his trail. The Noghri's gaze dropped to the ground to examine it closely. Then he snatched up a tuft of dry, red grass, lifted it up and let it drop again to find out where the wind was coming from. The thin stalks drifted toward what remained of his ship and he nodded to himself in satisfaction. His sense of smell was excellent, and there was no such thing as an odorless creature. Even droids had a certain aroma. With the way the wind was blowing they would not be able to surprise him with an attack from the rear.

Just then the stench of something vaguely acid reached his nostrils, only a whisper, but it was enough warning. Throwing himself flat on his stomach Chi'in rolled around, facing the sky, just as a round shape flitted over his head. A bug of some sort. The Noghri jumped to his feet, aware of the fact that the thing had been thrown by someone who had somehow managed to evade his keen senses. For a second he wished that he had not decided to get rid of his lightsaber. But the regret lasted only for a heart-beat. The rustle of leaves brought his head around at the same time that the four beings who had previously busied themselves with his ship turned toward him and charged. Chi'in ignored them for now. They would not concern him for the next few seconds, but there was danger near-by, and it was ready to pounce on him at any moment. 

Suddenly an entire swarm of bugs closed in on the Noghri, who did the only thing that came to his mind. He made a grab for the bushes and tore one free of the ground, trailing soil and loose roots as he used it like a club to fence off the bugs and catch them in the leaves and tiny branches. This very primitive cage not hold them all that long, but it got rid of one distraction that might otherwise have cost him precious time. Facing his attackers again Chi'in pulled one of his broad knives free from his belt and crouched in a defensive posture. The seven were complete now. The first creature came at him, howling a battle-cry and swinging a staff in his left hand. Chi'in thrust the knife at the assailant who obediently drifted out the blade's path, but the Noghri left nothing to chance. His opponent was easily twice as tall as himself and the wiry Sith Lord darted at him with no regard to the imminent danger. He was completely focused on his goal and that was to deliver a killing blow. 

The knife barely scratched the warrior's armor, but then, Chi'in had never meant for it to do more. In a flash he held a second knife in his other hand and found the spot where the armor was softer to allow the warrior to bend at the waist. Ripping the blade along the other's hips the Noghri circled his opponent with a a snake-like grace and his first knife found a similar weak spot at the base of the warrior's spine. The alien dropped to his knees as Chi'in pulled his weapon free again. Propelled by the Force the Noghri jumped high, sent both knives flying into the air and landed heavily on the warrior's back, the impact driving the other further down. The Sith Lord's clawed hands gained hold of the enemy's jaw and with a strength that was both natural prowess and Force-enhanced twisted the alien's head back and broke his neck.

Only few seconds had passed and as Chi'in sommersaulted from the dead warrior's back he caught his knives in mid-flight, already homing in on his next target. The blow that took the wind out of his lungs came as a surprise, though, and another batted a knife from his hand. Someone reached for him and instinctively the Noghri raked sharp claws across the unseen attacker. His second knive was lost when he tried to penetrate the warrior's armor and failed. 

Uttering a loud bellow Chi'in used his immense strength to free himself again and found five Zush'Jem confronting him. They had formed a loose circle around their prey and the Sith Lord saw his knives lying on the ground, out of his reach. Even if he called them to him through the Force he would still be too late. Lowering his hands the Noghri summoned the Force and built up a wall of hard air, ready to crush his enemies. He charged. 

"He was lying."

Voss Parck looked up at his Sith bodyguard tiredly and nodded. "I know." 

They were currently occupying the living-room of the severe quarters the Admiral had been assigned after his meeting with Tious Markhan, and Puket had discreetly swept the rooms for listening devices. The Twi'lek's lekkus were twitching impatiently, or perhaps nervously. It was hard to tell with her. Her face was fixed in a frown and she had been pacing their quarters restlessly for the past few minutes. 

"We should leave now, Admiral," she spat all of a sudden. "He lied about Thrawn and he was not even taking your request concerning Nirauan seriously!"

"We have to keep on trying. If we fail Nirauan is lost, and the Chiss may be, too."

"The Grand Admiral is dead," Puket offered sarcastically. "And we are wasting our time with these fools while the base might be under attack. You are needed _there_!"

"Patience, my friend." When she had come to him, on their trip to Byss, her blue skin awfully pale and her eyes wide with shock to tell him that Cronn was dead he had felt a little bit of hope die in his heart. There was no doubt in his mind that the Falleen had laid down his life for Thrawn and he had to accept the possibility that the Grand Admiral had indeed shared his bodyguard's fate. With all that had happened so far it would not surprise him in the least. Suddenly the Twi'lek threw he head back, her body arched impossibly as she screamed. Parck froze in shock for a second, then leapt up from his seat to catch her when she collapsed bonelessy into his arms. "Puket! What is it?" he urged her. "What has happened?"

Raising her head slowly she looked at him out of dark eyes that held such grief as he had never seen before. "Chi'in," she whispered at last. "He is gone."

"Not Chi'in!" Nuron exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief

Luke Skywalker confirmed the Zabrak's discovery with a mute nod. They had both felt a disturbance in the Force a few days earlier and both had concluded that the casualty had to have been Cronn. It had been saddening to realize that one of their own had passed on, probably along with the Grand Admiral. This, though, was devastating. Luke fought back his tears, but the grief that enveloped his heart would not be defeated. He could see the same emotion in Nuron's golden eyes, the same despair, and he extended his hands in silent offering. Wrapping her arms around him she hugged herself to him fiercely and he could sense her body shudder against his. 

He kissed her forehead in a helpless attempt to console her even though he himself felt as if he was being torn apart. Chi'in had always been the strength and heart of their little group, the one who had kept his head in the Rebel Alliance's battle against Roj Kell, who had talked sense into a despairing Anakin on Coruscant. That he was gone now .... It seemed unbelievable. He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eyes and turned his head to look at Captain Palleon, who was standing in the doorway, worry creasing his brow. 

"We have established a secure channel to Almashin," the man announced quietly. Luke nodded and disengaged from Nuron as gently as he could. 

"It is all right," he told her soflty. "You don't have to come."

Her head came up and her fiery gaze burned through him with the power of Tatooine's suns. "I owe it to him," she retorted harshly and whirled around to face the Captain. "Is that not so?" she challenged and Palleon gave her a somewhat hurried nod. 

"Of course. Please follow me."

Syndic Bal'maw'narda looked unpertubed by the news, to he young Jedi's great annoyance. He understood, of course, that the Noghri was an expendable asset to the Chiss, but to him he was a dear friend. At the Syndic's side Naas Deron was frowning into the distance absent-mindedly. Luke executed a small bow as he stepped into the holo's transmission field and a smile appeared on the aged Chiss' face. 

"Ah, Master Sykwalker. You bring dire news from Nirauan, I hear." 

Luke shot a startled glance at the Sith standing next to the Syndic and found confirmation there. "Yes, Syndic," he managed. "We cannot establish contact to the perimeter bases or Master Chi'in."

"Ambassador Deron says that his presence has – vanished."

Luke's heart skipped a beat and he threw the bulky human another look. Vanished? Of course, Deron had known Chi'in far longer than either Nuron or even Luke, and he was older and more experienced in the use of the Force, too, but surely - 

"Tell me, Luke, what did you feel?" Deron asked bluntly, his dark eyes focusing on the younger man.

"Pain. A blinding light. Then - nothing. The same as with Cronn," he insisted.

"Really? When Cronn died we felt his passing, his joining the Force. At least I did." The Sith Lord gave the young Jedi a questioning frown. Luke nodded at last and relief poured through his heart at lightspeed.

"You are right," he breathed.

Naas Deron smiled at him and nodded in empathy. "I understand your reaction, Luke. But you know Chi'in. He is tough. I suppose he is only unconscious. Don't write him off too soon. The grave news Syndic Bal'maw'narda was referring to concerns the base."

"Sir?" Luke was somewhat startled by the man's breach of protocol by speaking ahead of the Syndic and, judging by the Chiss' expression, he suspected that Deron would be in deep trouble once this conversation was over. 

"You understand, of course, that it is vital for us to know the enemy's strength," Syndic Bal'maw'narda explained solemnly. "Someone has to bring that information back to us and Captain Palleon is committed to protecting Nirauan. Commander Al'than'erudo has been deployed on that mission and I wanted to ask if you are willing to join him. You and Nuron Sarin."

This time the young Jedi did not even hesitate. "Yes, sir!"

Lightyears away Belana Jen was watching her companion intently. He was deep in contemplative meditation, his features utterly relaxed, but the Jedi Master doubted that he felt so calm inside. The passion with which Palpatine had obviously pursued his dream of immortality and omniscience had surprised not only him, that much was certain. She knew that it had shaken her to the bone. Yet Kell was the only one who could possibly fathom the entire scope of the scheme and his silence forbore nothing good. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, pools of pale green light that gazed at her with profound sadness. 

"Did you come to a conclusion?" Belana asked softly and slipped off her perch on the single bunk to join him on the deck. 

He nodded. "I think so."

"And?"

"He was a few steps ahead of me, it would seem."

The Jedi Master gasped aloud, staring at him in surprise. "How?" she managed at last.

"Think about it. You have a boy who could shake the pillars of this galaxy, a ready vessel waiting to be used. Why did he hesitate for so long? Why did he not take him much earlier?"

"He was lacking something," Belana hazarded.

"The program Yana was talking about, yes. So there was a realistic chance that its development would take a while longer and he knew that his enemies were not idle either."

"You are trying to tell me that he forsaw his possible demise and planned ahead to turn defeat into victory?"

Roj Kell snorted softly and appraised her with a disdainful glance. "Not victory. That he could not have achieved then. But what more potent legacy to give this ungrateful galaxy than chaos and death? And who better to wield the sword of vengeance than the Dark Lord of the Sith? His prized apprentice, the errant knight."

"Where do you come in then?" she asked quietly, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

"I would have been the catalyst, as I always was. Grand Admiral Thrawn rightly observed that wherever there was a fundamental change in the orders of Dark or Light I stood at the center of it. And I have fallen right for his trap."

"What do you mean, exactly? What trap?"

"He knew my tactics well enough to assume that, should I survive, I would try to bring about change once more. At any time I made myself the object of resentment and hatred, allowing my opponents to measure their darkness against my own. Most fell prey to their innate weakness and perished. Of those who confronted me only five withstood, you, Hagen Dycos, Kane Jinn, Master Yoda and Anakin Skywalker. All of you saw the light at the heart of darkness and you, my love, made me see it too." Here he gave her a fond smile that she returned readily. 

"Then you made your own choices," Belana reasoned quietly. 

"I did." His face darkened once more. "Until now."

"Until now? Why? What has changed?"

A wry smile appeared on his lips. "I have a son, Belana. A son who embodies everything I hate and despise. Can you imagine what I would have done a year ago at hearing that news?"

Belana shuddered at the very thought. "Yes, I think I can. But what about Yana?" 

He shrugged. "I am not sure. Another back-up plan, I suppose. But don't you think it suspicious that he let her have control over the program? Perhaps he sought to trap 

her with knowledge."

"She does not seem very eager to take her father's place."

"Understandable, don't you think?" He asked lightly but then, all of a sudden, his face twisted in a feral snarl and his pale eyes were blazing. 

"What is it?"

"They are back," he announced, gnashing his teeth as he rose. " We can only hope that the New Republic responds in time." He let out a shuddering breath. "I have prepared them as best as I could. Now only one task remains before they will have to face the darkness once more." 

TBC


	14. Chapter 13 - Winnings and Failures

****

Chapter 13 – Winnings and Failures

Stepping down the landing ramp of the Millennium Falcon Leia had to suppress a sudden urge to run ahead and wrap her beaming father in her arms. Anakin Skywalker stood next to Telmann Page, and as always he seemed to command the entire scene, including politicians, security personnel and reporters. He appeared every inch a lord, and Leia assumed the graceful walk she had been taught as Princess of Alderaan in an unconscious response to his regal bearing as she strode toward the waiting assembly. Mon Mothma was smiling at her fondly once she had come to a stop in front of the President. Here was another most dignified woman, just like her mother, and so very different from the ones Leia had encountered in her previous adventure. She secretly wondered how Yana Dar would fare in the New Republic Senate.

"You are back," Mon Mothma greeted her and gave her a gentle hug. "We have been missing you dearly," she added with a sincere smile.

Leia nodded gravely. "My news was of use to you?"

"Oh, certainly. A lot has happened since last we spoke and I would require a full report and an official statement later today. First, though, I suppose you would want to reassure your father that you have indeed arrived in one piece."

Han chose exactly that moment to clamber down the ramp, already shouting for a medic. The waiting team hurried over to him and followed into the ship's interior to take care of Roganda, and Leia noticed with some concern her father stalking into the Falcon after them. She excused herself hurriedly and joined the two men in the ship's crew quarters. Turning cool blue eyes on her as she entered Father crossed his arms over his chest pointedly.

"I wasn't going to rip his head off, you know?" he said.

Leia suspected differently, judging by the way Han sheepishly tried to hide out of her sight, rubbing a hand over his throat. She arched her eyebrows ever so slighty and countered, equally calm: "And I don't believe it one minute." Then her face darkened once more. "Mother has left already?"

"Yes. She's on her way to Ryloth."

She felt a pang of regret at that. "Isn't that a bit dangerous right now?"

"As dangerous as cajouling all over the galaxy." Throwing Han a withering glare Anakin made it clear who, in his opinion, was to blame. "And certain elements present might want to reconsider a certain offer they have made to my daughter. I would not have her marry a man whose sense of responsibility does not extend beyond his ship's radar."

"Father!" Leia exclaimed, shocked, but he turned to wink at her, while Han paled visibly. 

"Lord Skywalker, I – "

"Spare me, Solo. I wasn't being serious about that. Or the choking," he added for Leia's sake. "Now that you are back, my princess, I believe the two of us have work to do."

"What would that include? Exactly?" she asked, a bit suspicious.

"Mon Mothma is – " He stopped when the medics left the captain's cabin, carrying an unconscious Roganda on a stretcher.

"Excuse me," Leia said hurriedly and hastened after the men. "How grave are her injuries?" she asked softly.

"You did a good job on her," one of the medics replied. "She'll survive." 

"Thank you." The Princess stopped at the top of the ramp and, after having thrown one last glance at Roganda's limp figure, returned to the two rogues she had left behind. Which had been joined by a third. Lando Calrissian was smiling at her and, judging by the scowl on Han's face, Anakin had taken the liberty of spreading his intentions concerning the relationship between his daughter and the Corellian further. 

"It is a relief to hear that you will become available again, Princess," the baron commented smugly. 

"Shut up, Lando," was Han's off-hand remark. "This isn't very funny."

And indeed, Leia noticed that her father's face had turned very somber for some reason. "What? she asked quietly.

"It – " He pressed his lips together tightly and to his daughter's shock she thought she could make out tears glistening in his eyes.

"Father?"

"It is Chi'in," he explained at last. "He is – I could sense him just a few moments ago and now he is gone."

Leia felt her heart clench with sorrow. Cronn's demise had been a blow, for sure, even though she herself had not felt his departure, but this was devastating, especially for Anakin. Chi'in had been his closest friend. Hugging her arms around him she held him closely, making soothing noises she knew would be no help. 

"I am so sorry," she whispered. 

Father took her arms and gently pushed them down. "This makes establishing contact with Nirauan first priority," he told her, his voice icy cold. Looking up at him in confusion Leia did not understand the sudden change in his tone. But then his face softened again. "Luke was with Chi'in," he reminded her very quietly.

Her face paled to a shade of gray. "No!"

"Nothing has happened to him," Father assured her hastily, "at least nothing of the caliber you put us through," he added. "You scared us near to death with your sudden disappearance."

"I am sorry," she answered with a helpless laugh, but her thoughts were focused solely on her brother. Nuron was most certainly with him and the Zabrak would disember anyone who even came close to harming Luke, but if even Chi'in could be hurt ....

"You are repeating yourself," her father admonished her gently, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his safe embrace. Left cheek pressed against his chest Leia saw the look in Han's eyes. He had heard what they had been talking about, and he looked as shocked as Leia felt. At his side Lando Calrissian frowned, trying to understand the implications.

"Then we have lost communications with Nirauan?" Leia asked suddenly, finding comfort in getting down to business.

"The relays in New Republic space are playing havoc with any signal that tries to get there," Father explained. "And Mon Mothma won't allow the NRI to even touch the ones in Imperial space. Understandably."

"What if it's a virus that scrambles our signal and transfers it straight to Imperial Intelligence?" the Princess suggested.

"You are right!" Freeing her of his embrace Anakin took a step back, eyes wide. "You are right." A low growl rose from his throat. "Why didn't I think of that? Or Page, for that matter."

Leia gave him a stern nod. "We had better round everyone up for a brainstorming session. We cannot afford any delays at this time. And I want a report on all of your activities so far. Legal _and_ illegal." She blushed at the admiration that gleamed in his eyes when he smiled at her.

"That's my daughter."

When Chi'in came to again the first thing he noticed was the smell surrounding him, a fetid stench of decaying organic matter. Apart from that the sweet, metallic taste of blood hung in the air, his own, he remembered with a slight wince. His arms seemed to have been immobilized somehow and he suspected that his freedom of movement would not only be hampered by his injuries. Very slowly he sat up, acutely aware of each sting and twinge in his aching body and found that his left eye refused to open. 

The moment he had struggled into an upright position a harsh voice bellowed something at him and he looked up at his captor's nightmarish face dizzily. Tall and muscular the creature wore full body armor. His face was a mass of scars and tattoos, his forehead sloping backward in a slight curve. Chi'in knew that his own species were considered pretty ugly by, say, human standards, but even he had rarely seen worse than this. Three deep, long gashes decorated the creature's chest, only half-healed, and the Noghri warrior grimly flexed his claws in remembrance of the fight.

He had encountered these beings before, on SAO-209404, the Jem'luz homeworld, and therefore he had not hesitated in the least when they had forced him to crashland the Ardana Ver on one of the more remote worlds dotting the outer perimeter and attacked at once. The fact that their presence was somehow shielded from his perception did not mean that he could not kill them. It had, alas, been a pretty short battle, despite his caution. Perhaps he should be lucky that he was still alive, but experience told him that this was solely due to his extended usefulness. He had come from the direction of Nirauan, making it the logical assumption that he was a scout who might provide them with intimate knowledge of the base's defenses. 

There was, of course a slight problem in communications. Chi'in let the creature's inquiries wash over him with disinterest. But then a second being joined the first and there was a sudden silence that the Noghri interpreted as a change in command. He recognized the newcomer instantly and had to suppress a sudden urge to kill. Chi'in had received most of his injuries thanks to that one's combat skills. A deadly fighter, a match even for the Sith Lord's prowess and speed. Nodding at the captive the creature let his face twist into something like a smile, but it became something far more sinister on that distorted visage. He looked much like the other warrior, but there were sharp spikes growing out of his shoulders and knuckles, making him look like something found at the bottom of the sea.

"You may yet honor us," he said slowly in passable Basic. Chi'in had a feeling that a reply was not required, so he remained silent. "I am Fahl Dan and you are my prisoner." The Noghri risked an ironic smile at the other stating the obvious. "You came from Ni-rau-an," Fahl Dan continued, apparently oblivious to Chi'in's amusement. "Your bases here are destroyed, your warriors slain. You will tell us all about your base at Ni-rau-an."

The Noghri kept silent, simply returned the other's gaze with mild interest. He could recognize a pattern in the warrior's boisterous assumptions and somehow he thought now he understood Kell's motivations in fighting those 'Foul People' better. If he had one thing in common with the ancient Sith it was the dislike for bragging and empty threats. 

Fahl Dan's eyes seemed to narrow as he hissed: "Your cowardly silence will not save you." Chi'in merely smiled again. Suddenly the Zush'Jem warrior bellowed a sharp laugh. "Taunt me all you wish. I will not give you honor until you have proven yourself worthy."

Chi'in bared his teeth in a mirthless smile. "My honor is mine, not yours to take or give," he grated out, put off by the creature's warped sense of honorable behaviour. 

Nodding once Fahl Dan accepted the challenge. "You will help us defeat your base and bring glory to the Yuuzhan Vong."

__

Yuuzhan Vong? The Noghri did not answer. But a tiny spark of doubt had been lit in his heart and he knew instinctively that in this fight his greatest foe would be his fear of failure. Not his own, though, for he was in no position to affect anything. But when he had traveled to the Chiss' outposts he had felt a disturbance in the Force and had realized that one of his students had perished. Cronn. He did not blame himself for the Falleen's death, knowing as each good teacher does, that at some point the apprentice has to choose his own lessons. 

Yet he feared for the others. Naas Deron was perhaps the only one who came close to a master's level, but he was confined to Almashin and answerable to Bal'maw'narda, not the base at Nirauan. Since Puket was acting as Voss Parck's guard on Byss that left only Luke and Nuron to deal with this invasion. Where they up to it? Chi'in was not certain. The only thing left to him now was to have faith in their abilities. 

The Morning Glory made a last pass over the Chimaera's superstructure before it headed toward the jump-point. While Luke was working the controls Nuron plotted their course through hyperspace. They were very silent, each engrossed in their respective tasks and speculations on their friend's fate. Luke especially was worrying, since he had always believed Chi'in to be virtually invincible. His Zabrak companion outwardly displayed the same unrelenting trust in the Noghri's abilities as Naas Deron had, but Luke could sense that uncertainty held her heart captive, too. 

"Ready," she announced calmly and Luke automatically pushed the ship toward hyperspace. The Morning Glory accelerated beautifully and then they had left Nirauan behind. Turning toward his co-pilot Luke made a grimace.

"You know," he began, "I could almost believe that Chi'in did this on purpose. After all that talk about our destiny ... Perhaps this is some sort of test – "

"Don't be silly," Nuron interrupted him, but there was a hint of fear in her voice.

Blue eyes narrowing Luke gazed at her for a long moment. Something was preying on her mind, and she was loath to tell him just yet. So she returned his glare steadily, and her unfathomable golden eyes gave her an advantage in their staring match. After a few moments it was Luke who averted his eyes first. 

"I suppose it really is a stupid suggestion," he conceded quietly.

"Yes."

The Zabrak's wistful answer preceded another prolonged silence. For a while Luke considered asking her outright why she was so afraid, but in the end he left the cockpit, feeling rejected and hurt. The Morning Glory had a food processor unit and Luke began preparing a meal for two in deep contemplation. So far he had not given much thought to what was happening, always relying on Chi'in to have the ready answers. Perhaps it was now time that he tried to understand himself. Why was the Jem'luz homeworld so important? 

He remembered that Commander Al'than'erudo had spoken of the planet as if he knew it. 

"Nuron!" he called toward the cockpit and jumped when the next moment she appeared in the galley next to him.

"Yes?" she asked, a smug smile on her face. 

"Please don't do that again." Luke shot her a helpless grin, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. "Can you try to raise the Shooting Star? If they have material on SAO-209404 I would like to have that."

"Perhaps _you_ should do that," she said very coldly and Luke remembered the hostile welcome the Commander had given her. 

He shook his head. "No. He has to learn to respect you, just as you learned to respect your own strength."

For some reason her eyes widened ever so slightly and she turned around and headed toward the cockpit without another word. Luke directed a frown at her retreating back, but again held his silence. Whenever she was ready she would tell him what was bothering her. 

He shook his head to rid himself of his worries and concentrated again on the riddle surrounding the Jem'luz. Cronn and Chi'in both had insisted that the battles in the Unknown Territories had not registered in the Force, even though thousands must have died there. 

The recovered wreckage material from all fifteen sites of destruction showed that not a single one had been of Zush'Jem origin. Had they been, it might have explained the absence of any Force residues. Not for the first time he wished Master Yoda were here to guide him. The old Jedi Master had known more than – Hold on. He remembered the very day Master Yoda had joined the flow of the Force, the immense disturbance he had felt then. There had been such peace in bis heart and mind ... as if the universe itself had reached down to welcome the tiny Jedi Master in its eternal embrace. 

At the same time Roj Kell had vanished from Coruscant. There had been nothing to mark his passing, he had simply disappeared into the Force, as if he had never existed. As if the Force did not flow to him, but rather around him. Luke had no idea how that was possible, but then, it was technically not possible for any being to live as long as Kell had. Could Kell have been behind those massacres? He was alive, they knew as much now, and he had some scheme going on in Hutt Space, but that was a long way from the Unknown Territories.

"Luke!"

Jolted awake from his reverie the young Jedi hastened over to the cock-pit to join his companion. "What?"

"Al'than'erudo's battle-group has made enemy contact. Apparently they intecepted a distress signal from one of the perimeter forts and came as fast as they could."

"Battle-group?" Luke asked suspiciously. 

"Yes. Our dear Commander has been busy, too. We should be joining them in four hours."

"Anything on the Jem'luz world?"

Nuron sneered contemptuously. "He says it might be better if you used the Shooting Star's facilities for your research. For the sake of efficiency."

"But he talked to you – "

"No. His aide did."

"Oh." Luke's face fell in disappointment.

"Never mind. He'll see the error of his assumption soon enough." 

"Nuron," Luke said pensively, "you aren't thinking about pounding the idea into his thick skull, are you?"

Twisting around in her seat she gave him a long, hard look. "You know," was all she said, the accusation plain.

"I suspect." He took his place in the co-pilot's chair and turned to face her. "I believe you are experiencing a flashback of some sort. You are afraid of failure. Why? You proved to everyone that you are your own master and can make the right decisions. Just because you did not anticipate Kell on Korriban does not make you a bad fighter. Force, _everyone_ fell for his tricks back then!"

Nuron averted her eyes shyly. "You are right. Chi'in told me exactly the same, and your father.... Eventually he recognized my skills, too."

"So, are you going to tell me now?"

She chuckled softly and rubbed a hand across her forehead self-consciously. "You can be pretty persistent, you know? All right. Here's the story." Her face turned a bit darker, but Luke could sense no anger in her, only determination. "The Emperor had left a guardian behind on Wayland to protect the treasures he had hoarded there. The guardian's name was Germyne Urian, a human of extraordinary abilities, but as blind to the Force as those Zush'Jem. My task was to eliminate him."

"Should have been easy for you," Luke commented with a fond smile.

"No. It was not easy. It was horrible. I misinterpreted your father's command and spun an elaborate plan to draw the guardian out of his fortress' security. There was a village at the foot of Mount Tantiss, where the fortress was located, and I assumed that if I preyed on its inhabitants they would call for the guardian to help them."

"And they did not?"

She shook her head. "I am certain they did, but I was losing myself in anger, because he made me wait and confused me with evasive maneuvers. I was impatient, lost my focus, and he caught me off guard." A shudder ran through her then, making Luke's heart ache in sympathy. "He captured me." He could see the horror in her features and reached out to hug her tenderly. She let his arms enfold her without protest and this display of vulnerability almost made Luke cry. Whatever had happened to her back on Wayland had shaken her badly. 

"You weathered that crisis," he told her gently.

"But at what price? Your father believed me a failure. I – did not trust myself any more. I felt useless."

"That is long past," Luke tried to reassure her. Just then her head came up and golden eyes met blue ones.

"You and Chi'in made me see my mistake then," she explained softly. "Now he is gone and you yourself are uncertain of your destiny. I can feel it," she insisted when Luke opened his mouth to protest. "I know I have to be strong, but if I fail now I will lose you forever. I could not live with that."

"Nuron – "

"No, listen. Back on Almashin you accepted my role as your protector. It is my duty to guard your back while you deal with things I will never be able to understand. I do not even want to understand them." She placed a quick kiss on his lips and smiled. "Some of us reach for the stars while others are content to follow. You are a Skywalker, heart and soul, and I am honored to have your trust, if you will have mine."

"I love you, you know that," Luke said, feeling a bit helpless. Why did she have to burden him with all that responsibility? Perhaps he would have been content to follow, too. Secretly, though, he knew that he would never be able to stand back, the way Chi'in had done when Anakin had run headlong toward certain doom. Nuron was determined to give him support both by loving and protecting him, and refusing her gift would be like betraying himself. His mood lightened again as he drew her on his lap, feeling the sinewy strength of her body, the warmth of her skin as she pressed her cheek against his. "How could I love you and not trust you at the same time?"

"You are very wise," she marvelled, admiration plain in her tone. Luke winced inwardly. It sounded fake, to hear an eighteen-year-old warrior call a man only two years her senior wise, but he could sense that she meant it and it frightened him just a little bit. What if he could not fulfill her expectations? He risked a smile.

"We shall see about that, won't we?"

"Really, Admiral, I understand your concern, but I do not share it." Markhan tried to rid himself of Parck's annoying presence by slipping past him into his office, but the Twi'lek bodyguard intercepted him nonchalantly. Standing in front of the open office door she regarded him coolly out of dark eyes and her stance made it very clear that violence was not an option right now, but it might become one if he did not hear her master out. Turning back toward Voss Parck the Grand Admiral heaved an exasperated sigh. The man had the gall to actually look smug! Tious gritted his teeth and made a final decision concerning the two unwelcome visitors' imminent future. "I trust your forces to contain this threat," he grated out, "and should they manage to get past your troops I will deal with them accordingly. But right now, my friend, I have much more pressing problems."

"Such as the conflict with the New Republic?"

"You should be aware of your precarious position, Admiral. You are affiliated with Grand Admiral Thrawn, a traitor to the Empire - "

"Who is supposedly attacking his former ally right now."

"You yourself claimed the attack was not initiated at his order!"

"Perhaps he has changed his mind," Parck reasoned. 

"What exactly are you aiming at? Do you want me to launch an all-out offensive against the New Republic or do you want my assistance for your own little problem?"

"Honestly?" The Admiral arched his eyebrows in a challenge. "I want you to tell me the truth. Perhaps we should talk someplace more private? Your office, maybe?"

Suddenly Tious found himself cornered. The door to his office was still open, and the Twi'lek gracefully stepped aside to let him pass, Voss Parck right on his heels. "You are making a mistake," he hissed as the door closed behind them. Franzis Sarreti rose from his desk in one corner of the room, looking startled. 

"Sir?" the aide asked, directing a questioning frown at Parck and his bodyguard.

"Sarreti!" the Grand Admiral thundered. "Summon the guards at once!"

The man did not budge. Meeting Tious' glare calmly he gestured toward the viewport. "Right at this moment the moffs are arriving. They are anxious to meet Yana Dar."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I also noted that you have another guest coming in. Roj Kell. That really is a delightful surprise."

"Sarreti, I – "

"Be silent." Sarreti's voice was calm, yet the two words were delivered with whip-lash accuracy and force. Tious' mouth clamped shut. Bending over his data-pad the lieutenant continued more thoughtfully: "I might yet end in front of an execution commando for treason, so I will need you a little while longer." He looked up and shot the Grand Admiral a bright smile. "I would therefore advise you to cooperate. Admiral Parck," he continued, "your request has been noted, but for now my hands are bound. I will not be able to give you an answer until this entire affair is resolved. I hope you understand."

Voss Parck knew he must look at least as ridiculously surprised as the Grand Admiral. When he had practically forced Markhan to talk to him he had acted out of desperation, having realized that the man would not grant them any support no matter how diplomatic Parck might be. The Admiral had been fully prepared to resort to even more desperate measures to have Tious give that order and then die, but _this_ was – by the sound of it Sarreti had been planning this coup for a long time. 

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, but I do not quite understand," he hazarded and threw Puket a helpless glance. The Twi'lek frowned at the aide deeply, then gave a sharp nod. 

"He is sincere," she announced. "If he could aid us he would, but it seems that we will have to be patient a little bit longer."

"By then it might be too late," Parck said between gritted teeth. "Lieutenant, what is going on?"

"You have no authority on Byss and no right to question me," Sarreti reminded him mildly and turned his head to study Puket with open interest. "What is she? A Jedi? Or a Sith?"

"She is my bodyguard."

"Yes, of course." Sarreti's smile faded. "Alas, she will not be able to protect you if my actions are revealed before the time is right."

"We will keep that secret," Voss Parck assured him, but he did not feel very confident himself. "But how do you think to hold out until that day comes?"

"For now I am useful. Once Yana Dar arrives... We shall see."

"I will never support your traitorous scheme!" Tious Markhan shouted. Apparently he had finally recovered from his initial shock. 

"No? But you and I have the same goal," his aide told him coolly. "Both of us want the Empire to reclaim its glory. Ah," Sarreti gave the other a mock smile, "I remember now. You had planned on taking control yourself, is that not so?"

"I have worked very hard for this, Sarreti," Markhan growled. "And I have every skill necessary to rule."

"Yana Dar is the rightful heiress to her father's throne."

Markhan barked a mirthless laugh. "You think so? Does not Lord Vader also have a claim to the Empire? Or Irek Ismaren, for that mattter. He is Palpatine's son, after all."

"Lord Vader has made his choices clear," Sarreti countered calmly. "I doubt he will give up his family to join the Empire once again. As for Ismaren," the lieutenant's face twisted into a disgusted grimace. "The boy is insane."

"So was Palpatine, some believe," Voss Parck commented. "Tell me, Lieutenant, do you have any supporters onplanet?"

Sarreti threw Tious Markhan a suspicious glance, then shook his head wrily. "Not enough."

"The moffs and governors – are they aware of your scheme or did you tell them it was in the Grand Admiral's name?"

"Please, do not insult my intelligence, Admiral. They know the truth and most agreed to my plan. They do not approve of Markhan very much. He has hoarded the late Emperor's treasures here on Byss and that does not sit well with them."

"So you are telling me that your 'allies' might decide you to be a liability now that Yana Dar is almost within their grasp?"

"It is a stand-off, I fear. There are dangerous days ahead for me, true, but I think I can manage. If the Grand Admiral – "

"Don't count on me!" Markhan hissed.

"_If_ the Grand Admiral is reasonable," Sarreti continued, ignoring him, "the transfer of power will be made without blood-shed."

"He seems a bit loath to working with you," the Admiral observed correctly, and threw the seething Tious Markhan a meaningful glare. 

"I can be quite persuasive," Franzis Sarreti answered drily. "And he might be amendable to some of my suggestions. As far as I am concerned, Admiral Parck, you are free to leave the planet until this situation is resolved. I imagine your troops would appreciate having you back at Nirauan."

Parck hesitated. Nirauan was cut off from the rest of the galaxy, they had lost communications with Coruscant and barely had been able to reestablish a line to Almashin.

"I believe we will stay for now. I will need to contact Coruscant, though."

"Not from Byss, please. Perhaps you could use your shuttle's comm system?"

"Of course." Turning toward the door he waited for Puket to join him, but the Twi'lek kept gazing at Markhan. Finally she gazed at his aide pensively and said: 

"The future is hard to see at any time, but in your case I see betrayal and triumph clearly." Extending a slender hand toward the Grand Admiral she continued: "He will try to destroy you, but that certainly is no news to you. Yet his actions will decide your fate. Have a care."

The lieutenant gave her a sharp bow. "Thank you. I shall be careful. If you would excuse me now? I have urgent business to attend to."

Pacing the living-room of the apartment he ususally shared with his wife Anakin was dearly missing her presence. He felt lonely. Of course, he might pay a call to Leia, but he suspected that she would not be overly thrilled at the prospect of keeping her father company instead of being with Han. She had done a terrific job on the meeting, making the right connections and logical observations in record time and surprising even him with her insight. If she went on like that he would not be needed any longer and could retreat from active duty for good. Grimacing at the very thought the Dark Lord sat down heavily on the couch and glared at the silent comm. Just then a discreet chime announced a visitor at the door. Anakin called up a visual and jumped to his feet instantly. Loya. Perhaps the Devaronian had found something new on Yana Dar. Keying the door open he bade the alien to enter. 

"Make yourself comfortable," he ordered briskly and followed his own words. 

"I called in at your wife's office, but she's out," Loya told him reproachfully. "You said I was to relay any news to her."

"Yes, yes." Anakin replied impatiently. "Never mind. What do you have for me?" Loya handed him a datacard. "Yana Dar," the Dark Lord quoted, "human female, 36 standard years of age, homeworld Coruscant, parentage unknown." He looked up to frown at Loya. "That's all?"

"All there is officially," the Devaronian answered smugly and placed a second datacard on the table between them. "Her legal guardian was a woman named Shya Kee. She enrolled the girl in a number of posh schools, which must mean that someone paid the bills for her, someone rich and presumably powerful. On her sixteenth birthday Yana Dar left Coruscant and vanished in the Corporate Sector."

"Tough. Shya Kee, you say?" Anakin frowned. "I know that name." But his memory failed him as he tried to fit a face to that name. "Anything else?"

"Yana was not born on Coruscant."

"Where?"

"Naboo."

Recollection hit him then. Shya Kee, Palpatine's secretary on Naboo, before he was ever sent to represent the planet in the Galactic Senate. Her name had been a minor detail when Anakin had researched his opponent what seemed like ages ago. A secretary had not seemed important then, but now ... "Yana is related to this Shya Kee?"

"Nothing points that way."

"When did she resurface from her trip to the Corporate Sector?"

"Five years later, on Coruscant."

"Wait, her _sixteenth_ birthday? The year Palpatine declared himself Emperor. And she came back when she was twenty-one. Leia said she's Force-sensitive."

"Boss, you aren't thinking what I think you are, are you?"

"That she is his daughter?"

Loya groaned softly. "First his son shows up in that Executor-monster and now his daughter runs a scheme against us. What is she up to?"

"If I knew, Loya, I'd be a happy man," Anakin answered glumly. 

"Why are we stopping at Garqui?" Yana asked the man standing next to her, and Abla turned his head with a small smile on his lips. 

"Supplies."

"Are you expecting a blockade at Byss?"

"You never know what might happen," he laughed. "Although I suspect the Grand Admiral has everything under control."

"Except for Irek."

"Yes. Apparently there has been no progress in tracking him down." 

"Markhan is a fool to leave the Executor in that boy's hands."

"Who is going to take his toy away from him, do you think?"

Yana gave him a very cool look. "It is funny you should ask," she told him lightly. 

"You mean you could?"

"I am his sister and he seems to like me." A certain glimmer appeared in her eyes. "Besides, I might know the perfect way to get him to come to Byss." Abla snorted softly, but she continued right over him, "without the Executor as back-up."

That got her his attention. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked: "How?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"It might be the reasonable choice to tell me, and not the Grand Admiral."

Now it was Yana's turn to be surprised. "Abla, what _else _have you been hiding from me?" she demanded. 

"First tell me who our other guest really is. You said you saw him on Byss."

"I am surprised that you don't know him. His name is Roj Kell."

"Kell," he repeated softly. "We had the logfiles, but there were no visuals. I wonder how Markhan could recognize him."

"Perhaps he's been hiding things from you too?"

"Oh, I am certain of that. The question is why?"

"He may not trust you," Yana offered, her eyes searching his face for any clue as to what he was thinking. 

Her Force-senses were weak and told her nothing beyond that he was worried for some reason. She had a feeling that the source of that worry was Irek, and she could understand that, in a way. They had heard of the Executor's attacks on Ord Mantell and the New Republic, and Yana had been wondering what her half-brother was trying to accomplish with his moves. If Abla knew more – 

"Abla, you promised you'd tell me what is going on," she practically pleaded, and for a moment it was just like the old times. The look in his eyes, both fond and full of desire, his smile. Shaking her head vehemently Yana took a step back. "No. Don't," she commanded, but he followed her. "Abla! I swear I will kill you!"

When she lashed out at him he caught her wrists easily and suddenly she found her back pressed against the cabin wall. He was too close, much too close for comfort. Struggling against his grip Yana did not dare meet his eyes, but she could not escape the words. They made her shiver. "Two years ago my master commanded me to track down a woman named Yana Dar. I did not know who you were, and I had no clue what he wanted from you. But now I understand. Irek is a failure, and your father always made sure to have at least one back-up plan. Tious Markhan was his willing tool, but someone is playing that fool like a glass-pipe."

"He – sent you?" she managed.

"To guard and guide you, yes. _I_ told you about the secret installation on Dubrillion and I made sure that Markhan got all of that, because Byss, my love, is the key. You know the world. The possibilities there are almost infinite. We can run the program, use the facilities, we can restore th Empire. And you will rule."

"I _told_ you I did not want to!"

"It is your destiny, Yana." Letting her go again Abla retreated toward the viewport to look out at the planet before them. "You were on Byss? You witnessed the – transition?"

A shiver ran down her back as the tension left her and brought memories instead. Shoulders slumping Yana took a deep breath and stalked over to the couch to sit down. Her father had arranged all this! She had always been so proud of leading her own life, of not being dependent on her father, or the court. It had all been a lie.

"You owe him very much, do you realize that? You owe him everything you have, Yana." Abla said softly, as if reading her mind. 

"Have you got any idea?" she snapped, then heaved a deep sigh. "He was using me all along! That hurts. Doesn't it hurt you to be nothing but a tool?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. You should be grateful, Yana. I know that I am. For serving my master and for serving you." Joining her by the couch he dropped to his knees before her. "Yana, I love you more than anything else, but I will obey my master's command. Once you are Empress I will follow only yours."

"Why didn't you tell me two years ago? Why all those lies?"

"Would you have trusted me if you had known the truth?"

She looked down at his earnest face and she knew he meant every word. Reaching out she caressed his left cheek gently and sighed. "You are right, Abla. I would be a fool not to seize this opportunity." Guiltily she thought back on her conversation with Roj Kell, his advice. Perhaps he was right after all. "What should I do?"

"You said you could eliminate Irek – " he said hastily, his eyes shining. Yana snorted in disgust. 

"Not eliminate, Abla! He is my brother, and I will not resort to my father's methods, even if the boy is insane. Irek is no lifeless tool, my friend. He is a living being and he deserves his chance." 

His eyes narrowed in anger. "Perhaps giving him that chance will be the last mistake you will ever make. I do not trust him, and he has a powerful guardian."

"Erinin."

"Unfortunately the man is absolutely loyal to Irek. He does not know of the others and would not take orders from me; he would kill me first. How do you propose to get around him?"

"No one is immortal, Abla," she reminded him coldly. "No one." Slipping a hand underneath his chin she lifted his head up ever so slightly to meet his gaze. "As I understand it Tious Markhan does not know who you really are, Abla Othana, and if he ever realizes your position your life is forfeit. You know that as well as I do. But I will not become his puppet."

"That's the spirit, girl," he answered with a smile and drew her into his arms to kiss her. Yana's protests subsided quickly as she realized that Abla was her sole ally, the only one she could trust with her life and heart. True, he had betrayed her, but perhaps that betrayal had been necessary for her to become aware of her own position. "I love you," he said softly into her ear and kissed her again.

A single tear slid down her face when she answered: "I love you too."

An hour later they were seated together in the ship's comm center. Abla had sent the officers on duty away so they could have some privacy. Most knew his position with Markhan and respected it, so there would be no questions. Now, seated next to Yana, he could not stop looking at her. The way she moved, the concentration with which she went about her task, all that was bringing back memories. Moved by his sentimental emotions Abla lay a hand on her forearm and she quickly turned her head to look at him. The smile in her blue eyes was sincere and he gave a sigh of relief. Now that they had made their peace and set things straight between them nothing could stop them. Nothing and no one.

"I have a connection," she announced suddenly and refocused her attention on the comm. 

"This is Unit Eight," a man's voice announced suddenly. "You are on receive."

"Code Nero-Negative-Blue," the information broker replied. "You have permission to intercept the quarry."

"Finally! That guy is getting far too creepy for my taste. We've had some losses – "

"Unimportant. You have enough resources to call upon. But I want to make one thing clear: Target One is not to be harmed."

"You are abandoning the plan?"

"Second thoughts, Unit Eight?" Yana asked lightly.

"No, boss, surely not. Code Alpha-Seven procedure?"

Yana hesitated only for the fraction of a second. "Excellent. Once you are finished wait for me to contact you again."

"Okay. Eight, out."

Yana nodded to herself in satisfaction, then punched in another code and activated the encrypt. "You said you could delete all traces, right?"

"Yeah," Abla frowned at her. "What are you doing?"

"My men will need some assistance and I have a deal with someone who might be able to provide it." Flicking a switch she took the headcomm and positioned it over her ears, so Abla could not listen in. Rising from his seat he tactfully retreated toward the exit and Yana gave him a grateful smile and a wave before he opened the door. But before it closed again behind him he could just make out the beginning of the conversation.

"Yes, Princess, it's Yana. I have some vital news for you concerning the Executor."

Grand Admiral Thrawn looked up a bit groggily when the door to his prison slid open. The room had once served as storage space for cleaning droids, and was therefore ill-equipped for imprisoning a living being. He had a feeling that there was almost no oxygen left in there. 

After their escape from the New Republic fleet Irek had resumed command once more, and his frequent relapses into mad fury were becoming increasingly dangerous. Perhaps some of his crew had decided that they wanted out before it was too late. The corridor outside was dark, meaning that everyone safe for the sentries was asleep. Hopefully that included Irek himself. 

"Come on, I'm not going to bite you or anything," a voice hissed at him and the Chiss stumbled upright tiredly. 

"Halan?"

The man nodded at him hurriedly and a hand grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the corridor. "We gotta hurry. Quiet now."

They left the bridge unmolested and were joined by two more of Halan's team. One of them he recognized instantly. Thrawn threw Anjuri a hard look and the man had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry about your second," the man whispered, but the Grand Admiral waved him into silence. 

"What is your plan?" he asked quietly as he caught up with Toss Halan again. 

"We were kinda hoping that you could assume command of the troopers."

"Fifteen minutes, Halan. That is the time he'll need to reach a shuttle and leave before he blows up the ship," Thrawn commented drily. "It takes five to mobilize the TIE pilots alone. Why didn't you just kill him?"

"Not as easy as you make it. First you'd have to get past Erinin."

Thrawn gave him a cool glance. "You are right. Halan, what were you hired for? Not your navigational skills, I know. So?"

"I am good with machines."

"Excellent. Where are Irek and Erinin right now?"

"Lower bridge. One of the meeting rooms."

"No, my friend. Erinin has been following us for the past four minutes."

"Wha - ?"

"Surprised? Once he believes we've made a decision he will return to the lower bridge and make a report. What do you think will happen then?"

Toss Halan swallowed hard. "Something bad?" he ventured.

"Possibly. Anjuri, you are keeping an eye on our backs?"

"Yes, sir!" the man whispered.

"Good." Rounding on Anjuri Thrawn ordered quietly: "You will attack Erinin and create a diversion. Halan, you and your friend are coming with me. Where's the rest of your men?"

"They are rounding up some troopers to give them the good news."

"Perfect. Let's go."

TBC


	15. Chapter 14 - Turning the Tide

****

Chapter 14 – Turning the Tide

Standing very still amidst the shadows Erinin did not even blink as he watched the small group ahead of him. Toss Halan, Anjuri and Min'da Sher, three of the mercenaries Yana Dar had provided with the ship, accompanied the Grand Admiral. There was no sign of the rest, but he knew that they too, had betrayed the plan. He had suspected that it might come to this, even before they had captured the Executor, but there had been no way for him to prevent it from happening short of eliminating every single one of them. Which would have left only him as Irek's guardian. 

The atmosphere on the Super Star Destroyer's bridge had been charged and somewhat strained ever since Ord Mantell and so the bodyguard had taken to sleeping with his eyes open, which meant not at all. Therefore he had noticed Halan's men leaving. He had killed two of them already and would have killed them all, had he not felt that duty and caution required him to stay at Irek's side. The boy had been still asleep when he had left him, the task of keeping the giant ship under his control taxing the youth immensely. They were both exhausted and this mission was taking them nowhere. 

And Erinin, despite his loyal heart, was losing his faith in the boy. He was almost certain now that Irek had no clue as to what he was doing, that he was acting purely emotional. A suggestion to return to Yaga Minor had ended in a frightening rant on Irek's part, full of madness and loss and despair. Erinin remembered it with dread. 

__

"Why should I go back? Why?" The boy's blue eyes were blazing with suspicion and anger. 

"Your mother – "

"My mother! She wants to use me! Only that! But I will not be her pawn any longer!"

"My lord, you need rest, and a goal we can reach. We do not have any loyal supporters on board and you are –"

"Incompetent?" Irek hissed. "I have a plan! I will conquer Coruscant and Thrawn will help me. He has no other choice. No choice," he repeated, his tone suddenly very pensive. "He is a cunning strategist. I know everything about him." Admiration was plain in the boy's voice, awe even, and a certain longing that frightened Erinin. 

"He is only trying to convince you to let him return to Nirauan," the bodyguard reasoned.

"He is teaching me," Irek replied. "And I want to know everything ... "

"My lord, you will die for sure if you do not rest."

But Irek was not listening. "Magrody said I was a most adept student, but he would say that, wouldn't he? Mother believes I am destined for greatness, but that is only what she wants to believe. What do you believe, Erinin? My friend?" A soft chuckle rose from Irek's lips. "My only friend. What do you_ want from me?"_

"I want to keep you safe."

"But I want to learn! I want to – "

"Conquer Coruscant?"

"No! Yes! I – " Irek stopped, his mouth clamping shut as a look of pure horror crossed his features. "I do not know," he admitted at last, "I do not know who I am, where I come from. I do not know why I am here. I feel so useless." His blue eyes turned toward his bodyguard and a profound sadness was mirrored in their depth. "Do you know an answer? Do you know where I belong?"

Haunted by those memories Erinin was taken by surprise when Anjuri came charging at him with a drawn-out howl, brandishing a blaster in one hand and a personal shield in the other. Behind him Thrawn and his companions were moving further away from the bridge. The bodyguard acted instinctively and managed to twist out of Anjuri's way before the shield could fry him. The other's face was a grim mask of determination, but sweat beaded his face, a telling sign of his nervousness. 

Erinin recovered swiftly from the initial surprise and refocused his thoughts on the task at hand. His retreat had taken him back into the main corridor that led up to the bridge, a straight path that offered no shelter against stray blaster bolts. It was clear that Anjuri was no more than a distraction, which meant that Thrawn had a plan. Never an enjoyable prospect. The bodyguard had drawn his own blaster, but Anjuri, following his every move to block his path, was keeping the shield between them. 

"Come now, what are you trying to accomplish?" Erinin asked at last, realizing that they had reached a stalemate. Anjuri did not dare lower the shield and therefore could not attack, and Erinin could not penetrate the shield at all. Suddenly the artificial field vanished and Anjuri started firing. The bodyguard, without any protection, managed to get off two blaster bolts before his attacker scoreed a hit. His right arm numb with pain Erinin dropped his own weapon and half-fell to the deck, but used his own body to shield his left hand from Anjuri's vision. His armor would deflect any blaster bolt aimed at his chest or abdomen, but Anjuri knew that too. Licking his lips nervously the man came closer, his shield still deactivated. 

"I am really sorry about this," he said apologetically. Raising his blaster he took aim at Erinin's head. The moment he did exactly that the bodyguard's left hand whipped around and a dagger hit Anjuri squarely in the throat before he could shoot. As the surge of adrenalin faded from Erinin's blood-stream he heaved a deep breath and exhaled slowly. But then his mind froze in icy dread. Irek! Ignoring the searing pain in his arm he ran toward the meeting-room where he had left the boy. It was locked tight. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn did not look up from his task when he noticed the quiet clanking of boots on the deck. He was directing Toss Halan through the master dataframe that was connected to the comm unit in the Executor's meditation room. Meant to serve the Dark Lord originally the chamber was secluded and severely furnished, but Thrawn had not changed anything about it. It was functional, and that was all that counted. 

"Your report?" he asked softly, never averting his eyes from the complex patterns displayed on the screen before him. 

"I have made contact with a squad and instructed them as per your orders. The commander is waiting for you," Min'da Sher explained a bit shakily. 

"Excellent. The TIE pilots are on their way?"

"Yes."

"Here," pointing at the screen the Grand Admiral leaned forward ever so slightly. "That should suffice. Unfortunately this system cannot handle the emergency functions, else we'd be able to cut off the bridge entirely."

Toss Halan looked up at him with a frightened expression. "Then we are abandoning the ship?"

"No. That will not be necessary. If our little plan succeeds, and it looks as if it already has, Erinin will be on his own. The readings look promising."

Halan nodded miserably. "Yeah. If he didn't wake up too soon."

"He is exhausted. And he is not very good at much else than machinery."

"Lucky us," Halan breathed. 

The Grand Admiral nodded encouragingly at the man as he stepped back. "Proceed. I will be with the troopers."

"Yes, sir. The headcomms are fully functional again."

"I know. Come," Thrawn ordered Min'da Sher. "We should not leave the commander waiting."

Following Sher briskly he pondered his decision on a counter-offensive again. But personal sentiments could not distract him now. Of course he had known the boy's mother, but that was no excuse not to eliminate a threat to his ship and troops if it became necessary. They had manipulated the meeting-room's temperature and air-conditioning unit and with any luck Irek would not even have noticed the sudden lack of oxygen and simply fallen unconscious. Thrawn did not doubt that by now Erinin had liquidated Anjuri and he was confident that the man would do everything in his power to get the boy to safety. For that eventuality they had to be prepared. There was the slight chance that Irek would wake up before his bodyguard got him out of the Executor's reach. What he would do then Thrawn did not even think about, because exactly that he was here to prevent. 

"Sir!" A grey-clad officer saluted smartly as the Grand Admiral came into view. A squad of troopers stood to attention behind him. "Permission to welcome you back to active duty!"

"I never was off-duty, Lieutenant," Thrawn admonished the man mildly. "The TIE fighters are ready for launch?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Excellent. Now we only have to wait for our quarry to try to leave the ship."

Erinin was desperately trying to override the door mechanism and finally managed to short-circuit the lock. The door slid back and allowed him to enter. Darting into the meeting-room he found Irek slumped on the field-bed they had erected there for him, his face deadly pale and his breathing almost non-existent. By the time he had reached the boy's side the bodyguard had already registered the all too low oxygen level in the room, probably the reason for Irek's condition. Lifting his charge up with his left arm he slung his light body over his shoulders, precariously balanced, and began the dangerous trip toward one of the forward hangars. 

If he could not wake Irek before they arrived there and Thrawn decided to attack they would both be dead. He shook his right arm wildly, impatient with the blistering wound that sent waves of pain up into his torso at intervalls and distracted him, but he took care not to lose his precious burden. Irek was stirrning weakly now, and then he came fully awake with a loud gasp. In an effort to struggle out of his bodyguard's grasp he kicked against Erinin's right shoulder and caused the older man to fall to his knees in agony. Crouching down at his side Irek gazed at him out of concerned eyes. 

"You are hurt," he stated unnecessarily. Then he looked around and frowned. "What is going on?"

"We have been betrayed. Toss Halan and the others have teamed up with Thrawn," Erinin explained breathlessly, his head spinning.

Clenching his hands into tight fists Irek let out a low growl and straightened again, his blue eyes seemingly searching. "Betrayed?" he hissed viciously and a sharp laugh broke from his mouth. "They will die for this!" he screeched and Erinin shivered when he thought he could feel something pass through the corridor, a wave of incredible power that reverbrated from the walls in a low, deep hum. Arms spread wide the boy stood very still, his eyes closed and his face utterly relaxed. _He's going to destroy the ship!_ Erinin thought in horror. _That fool is actually going to shred the Executor to pieces around us!_

Rising laboriously to his feet again he gathered his courage and spoke: "My lord, we have to leave." There was no reaction. "Irek, this is madness!" he tried, desperate now, He thought he could hear the ship's superstructure creak ominously under the assault. Never before had he been as afraid as he was now. Laying his left hand on the boy's shoulder he shook him gently. "Irek, don't be foolish."

"You dare!" the boy roared as he turned toward him and his focus shifted toward his bodyguard. 

Picked up by an invisible force Erinin found himself flyng down the corridor and landed hard on the deck. He lay there, paralysed temporarily by the force of the impact, and watched Irek stalk toward him menacingly. His eyes widened ever so slightly, recognizing the madness in the young man's gaze and features. "Irek –" Suddenly blue lightning came careening at him, dancing through the air with deadly grace. Erinin screamed, as his world was drowned in darkness and pain. 

Captain Lorth Needa was watching the small red dot that represented the Executor on the Eisenhart's radar with utmost concentration. He had just received new instructions from Coruscant that had him set his fleet on red alert. Now they had begun a stealthy approach on the Super Star Destroyer, and the bridge crew's attention was focused solely on the giant ship's activities. If the Princess' information had been right things would get very interesting very soon. 

"TIE fighter launch," Commander Shikay snapped suddenly and indeed, the radar showed smaller red dots that started swarming around the Executor.

"Get me visual," Needa ordered and waited for the image to dissolve onto the forward screen. "Is that a shuttle?"

"Yes. Assault class, heavy armor and weaponry."

"Of course."

"The TIEs are pursuing, sir. Shall I launch our own?"

"No. They are driving the shuttle toward us anyway. Activate the topedo launchers at the forward batteries and prepare a tractor beam to intercept them. Make that two," the Captain corrected immediately. "And hold more ready."

"Yes, sir." While Shikay quietly relayed the Captain's orders Needa rose from his seat to join the comm officer. "Can you open a channel to the Executor?"

"At once," the woman answered and swiftly set to work. "Emergency channel is open. You are on receive."

"This is Captain Needa of the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart, If anyone can hear me, please respond." They waited for a few moments. Nothing happened. "Repeat, this is Captain Lorth Needa, commander of the Second Fleet of the New Republic – "

"We can hear you loud and clear, Captain," a smooth voice answered over the cackling of the comm channel. "Please allow us to bring our main systems online. How does the pursuit look from your point of view?"

"Grand Admiral," Needa said with a smile. "It is good to find you alive and well."

"Thank you, Captain. Your report?"

Realizing that the other ship currently operated without radar the Captain peered at the forward screen. "Your TIE squadrons are in firing range and now they are engaging the shuttle. Who is aboard, if I may ask? Irek Ismaren?"

"The very same. You have a lock on the ship?"

"Tractor beams are standing ready, as well as the forward batteries."

"Very good."

"The shuttle is accelerating. It will jump to hyperspace."

"Let him go."

"What?" Needa asked, aghast. "How can you let that boy get away?"

"He is of no importance whatsoever, not now. I have wasted too much time here already. What are your instructions from Coruscant?"

"We were to lend you a hand," the Captain answered glumly. "Sir, if that boy is running around free he might cause extensive damage."

"But he will not. He needs rest badly, and he has no plan. That is the problem, Captain. He is a tool, nothing more."

"Then the question is whether he will find a master in the near future or if he will continue to be a loose cannon."

"You are right, Captain. What he needs is guidance, but I fear that none of us can provide that. Where is his mother? Do you know?"

"She has been injured on Yaga Minor and is currently in New Republic custody."

"I see," Thrawn said pensively. "Once the Executor is fully functional again I will contact her. If you could send a few tech teams over here I would be very grateful."

"I will give the order at once."

"Thank you. Executor out."

The space-port of Kala'uun was bustling with stormtroopers and as Padmé and her small entourage were led toward a transport that would take them to the Seat of the Council she noticed that the soldiers would frequently isolate one of the Twi'lek walking about for a random control. Padmé suspected that this was merely a measure to keep the populace quiet and intimidated, but she certainly did not approve. They had arrived aboard a smaller New Republic cruiser and she was well aware of the fact that she was armed with little more than diplomatic immunity. It was a risky gamble Mon Mothma had initiated here, yet Padmé felt confident that they would manage to pull off that little ruse and get out of Ryloth again in one piece.

Walking quietly at her side was her aide, Anja, and the Noghri Andarack followed both women like a silent shadow. He drew some stares from the Imperial officers accompanying them, but none dared comment on the presence of a Noghri with a New Republic representative. The hatch to the heavily-armored transport popped open upon their approach and Padmé entered swiftly, trying to appear completely unconcerned. An elderly man welcomed her with a tight smile. 

"Padmé Naberrie, a pleasure to have you with us. I am Commander Antham, interim governor of Ryloth," he began. "I so hope that the unfortunate business that leads you here can be resolved quickly and to our mutual satisfaction."

"The pleasure is all mine, Commander," Padmé answered coolly and wondered what textbook had yielded this flowery speech. The man was no diplomat, that much was apparent. "What business would that be? I cannot remember having given a reason for my visit."

His features froze in rigid surprise. "I - ah – assumed that the New Republic would not approve of the Empire's renewed interests in Ryloth – ah – that is, diplomatically put."

Nodding at him in acceptance of that ill-concealed lie Padmé indicated the slender woman to her left. "My aide, Anja Dumilor. My guard, Andarack clan Rim'kai." Her eyes never left the commander's face and she could easily identify the disapproval in his eyes, his anger, as he gazed at the silent Noghri. 

"Welcome to Ryloth," he managed, non-commitally. "Please, take your seats. We will proceed to our final destination immediately."

"Excellent. My business is indeed urgent. It seems that a member of our diplomatic corps has gone missing on Ryloth." She handed him the official sheet. "His name is Cesh Kendar."

Taking the flimsiplast Antham frowned. "A Twi'lek," he mused aloud, then looked up to meet Padmé's eyes again. "We will, of course, do our best to recover your man."

"That is most gracious of you. In the meantime I would like to interview the ruling council to confirm your interests in this sector. You understand."

"Certainly. But you will also realize that for the time being I am the ruling power on Ryloth."

She gave him a surprised look. "Really? Under what directive? Have there been uprisings or any sort of unrest? I was led to believe that your intentions were merely to reestablish the Empire's protectorate."

"That is indeed true," he answered smoothly, and Padmé felt strangely satisfied to find that he had not fallen for that trap. Perhaps he was smarter than she had thought. "Alas, a random investigation yielded information on a plot that would have led to the occupation of Ryloth by the Hutts."

"Is that so. Then Ryloth should be grateful for your intervention. Was that why your forces paid a brief visit to Nal Hutta and Nar Shadaa before coming here?"

"Yes."

"I see." Favoring the commander with another smile she indicated that for now this discussion was over. Instead she gazed pensively at her companions, idly speculating on her next move. Everything he had told her so far had been a lie, and she had a feeling that he was uncertain himself what his directive was. Anakin had discovered early on that there were differences within the Imperial command and Padmé wondered if the scheme on Ryloth had been simply abandoned for one reason or other. Perhaps something else had come up and proven to be more important. 

That meant that Antham was doubly dangerous. He knew that she was a trained diplomat, and that he could not match her skills in that area. In the most unfortunate of cases he would decide her a liability. If Mon Mothma's suspicions were right his last orders had been to secure the situation on planet, no matter the cost. And Telmann Page had confirmed that there had been uprisings, and a plot initiated by Joral. But the Hutt was not on Markhan's side. On whose was he then? He had promised assistance to the New Republic, but he also did not want to alienate the Empire further. But had he kept quiet on Page's survival? If not, then Antham would know that she knew more than she pretended to. All the more reason to gather proof for the Empire's deeds as fast as possible and get out. 

Roganda awoke slowly, and in a way she was grateful for it. This way she had enough time to come to terms with her new situation. Not that it had changed much on the overall scale. She was still a prisoner, and she did not doubt that the New Republic would also try to use her to control Irek. Tears started falling unbidden as worry overcame her again. Was he all right? Was he well? In hindsight her entire scheme seemed so – petty. It served no end other than her revenge, and she could not enjoy even that, for fear was eating her alive, fear for her child, and fear of the Grand Admiral's retribution, should he survive. The greatest fear though was to have unleashed something that not even she could control. The word failure hung heavily above her head, threatening to crush her. 

"Roganda?" The warm voice was full of concern. Opening her eyes at last Roganda looked up into Leia's dark eyes and smiled. "You were crying," the Princess explained gently and reached out to hold her hand. 

"Irek?" she asked hopefully, and her heart grew heavy when Leia averted her eyes all of a sudden and took to staring out of the room's viewport. 

"He is alive. At least we assume he is."

"What happened?" Roganda found that she could hardly breathe, with her heart being crushed ever so slowly by sudden dread. She sat up abruptly and a dizzy spell made her head spin uncontrollably. Sinking back with a low groan she felt Leia's hand squeeze her own reassuringly.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn has regained control over the Executor. Irek has reportedly left the ship and escaped. We do not know where he will be headed, though."

"He will try to find me. If he is alive, he will find a way," Roganda murmured softly, conviction mixing with hope and faith. 

"Yes, that is a reasonable assumption," the Princess agreed, her tone pensive. "But what will he do then?"

"I do not know...."

"Do you still hope to see him as his father's heir?"

"Never his heir," she breathed angrily. "The late Emperor was a sick man with a twisted mind. I would never have my son become his likeness. Never!"

"I understand."

"Tell me, did you never fear to become a reflection of your father?" Roganda asked suddenly, truly curious, but also strangely afraid.

"I would be honored if I could gain only half of his skills and strengths," Leia replied calmly. 

"What about his weaknesses?"

"He taught me that the recognition of one's weakness comes before strength. Your master, I believe, thought himself invincible. And I fear Irek might believe the same of himself."

"He has such a fragile heart," Roganda whispered, more to herself than for the other woman's benefit. "He is so vulnerable. I have been a bad mother for him," she concluded with a loud sob. It was so true! She had given him no self-confidence, only doubts. "I am a bad mother," she repeated softly. Through a curtain of silent tears she saw Leia rise from her seat on Roganda's bed and the Princess let go of her hand gently.

"You must come to terms with your guilt first, Roganda," Leia explained. "Perhaps then you can find a way to reach him again. For his sake and for your own."

"He is just a boy, just a child. He does not know how to take care of himself." She knew that her pleading would fall on deaf ears. If Irek posed a threat he would be eliminated. But the Princess surprised her when she countered:

"We will take this into consideration. Do not fear for his life. The New Republic has no intention of harming your son." 

"Thank you," Rodanda whispered, meaning it with all her heart. 

Turning toward the door Leia felt reluctant to leave the older woman alone, but she also realized that Roganda had to come to terms with herself, and needed to do it on her own. When she closed the door behind her she was surprised to find her father waiting in the hallway. Smiling up at him she fell in step with his long strides as he led her wordlessly toward his office, that he had reclaimed two days ago. 

"Any news?" she asked at last and took a seat opposite from his desk. 

"On Yaga Minor, yes," he explained and Leia suddenly realized how tired he looked. 

"Father, what is it?"

"What is what?" he asked, suspicion plain in his eyes. 

"You seem concerned, exhausted."

"Does it show?" He gave her a weak smile. "I guess I am getting old."

Leia shook her head vehemently. "You just need a break, that is all." Once the words had left her mouth she wished them back when she saw the expression on his face; hurt, betrayal and disappointment turned slowly into resignation. "Father, I didn't mean it that way," she tried, but he waved her into silence.

"No, no, you are right. I should not try to hold your hand all the time. You have proven already that you can take care of things on your own and take charge. I suppose the time comes for every father when he has to let go of his children." He sighed deeply. "Your mother has an easier time, I believe, because she had the opportunity to say goodbye even earlier. I had no idea that you even existed, and when I found you - " Stopping himself with a faraway look in his eyes he gave a low, wistful grunt. "Over the past days I realized that while my efforts yielded nearly no result you have fared far better. I am tired of these games, Leia. I find that I cannot summon the concentration, the focus, to think beyond the fact that I have already accomplished all that I wanted to accomplish in the first place." His hands reached over the table to hold hers and a warm light played in his blue eyes as he gazed at her. "My life's work is done, and yours is only beginning. I hope the burden I gave you to bear is not too heavy, or too difficult – "

"No." She shook her head again, accepting his confession with a heavy heart. "And I have many people to help me. I am not alone."

He gave her a pained glance. "You will find that you always are alone, once you assume the cloak of leadership. Your mother and I – in a way we could be alone together, if you understand what I mean."

"I do." For a moment doubt and confusion reigned in her mind. Would she be alone even while with Han? Would he understand and would he support her nevertheless? Would he accept her duties and not complain if she could not spend as much time with him as she wanted to? Guilt-ridden, she sought her father's eyes again. "I think I am afraid," she admitted quietly. 

"My daughter afraid?" he exclaimed with faked incredulity that changed into a laugh almost immediately. "It is all right to be afraid, Leia, and I have no doubt that Han will comfort you if your fears become too much. He is a good man. He truly loves you, and that is the most precious gift, the strongest shield, you could ever wish for."

"Thank you," she replied, her voice thick with emotion, and squeezed his hands briefly before she took hers away again. "Now, what news on Yaga Minor?"

All business again he handed her a datacard, but she did not look at it, but waited for his explanation instead. "Apparently an Imperial renegade had seized control of the planet, seeking to play off the Empire and the New Republic against one another by holding you hostage."

"What? But that is – "

"Not true? I fear now it is. It is all over the newsgrids and I suppose people will accept it gladly."

"Who?"

"General Zi'Assime. He has been arrested by one Major Olade, apparently, and I do not doubt that the Empire will be quick to appease everyone by putting him on trial as soon as possible."

"He is making fools of us," Leia said quietly, realizing in an instant the true intent of what could only be another of Tious Markhan's schemes. "The man is good, no doubt about that."

"Unfortunately you are right. Our hands are bound in that matter, but whether the nobles really contact Piett or fall for Markhan's trap will be decided in the future."

"What trap?"

"He has promised them amnesty, recognizing that Zi'Assime put them under pressure."

"Did the General also take the blame for the Executor?"

"Yes."

Leia smiled grimly. "Roganda will not like this."

"On the contrary. She will be happy if no one ever mentions her connection to that unfortunate affair again." The comm installed in his desk came to life unexpectedly. "Yes?" he asked a bit testily and frowned at the display. "General Page, what can I do for you?" There was a long pause. "What?" Father exclaimed at last, then gave Leia a nod and disconnected the call. "Emergency session with General Page," he explained briskly and rose from his seat. "Apparently there have been some major developments in the Unknown Regions and within the Empire."

Voss Parck was seated on the chair inside the holo transmission field and waited patiently for the others to join their little meeting. The holo showed him a conference table and Telmann Page, who was restlessly pacing up and down the length of the table, looking nervous. Suddenly the door behind him chimed open to reveal the familiar faces of the Dark Lord and his daughter. Both took a seat and were joined swiftly by the Chief Security Advisor. Page nodded toward the Admiral and asked: "Please, could you repeat your report?"

"Certainly. Lord Skywalker, Princess, a pleasure to find you well. I am Admiral Voss Parck, of Nirauan. General Page has assured me that the Grand Admiral is alive and in command of the Executor again, which is certainly good news, but I have something for you that might be even better."

"Don't forget the bad news," Page growled softly, but Voss Parck chose to ignore that comment for the time being.

"The good news is, that Tious Markhan's star is fading. Apparently his aide, Lieutenant Franzis Sarreti, has planned a coup that involves Yana Dar. I strongly assume that he wants the lady to become Empress and thus reunite the Empire."

"In what way would that news be good?" the Princess asked sternly and frowned.

"Sarreti is much more open-minded than Markhan. A diplomat and politician, if you will. He recognizes the signs of the times and I for one believe that he might even manage to push through fundamental reforms." His mood darkened just a bit. "He is also prepared to grant the Chiss support in their struggle."

"Yes," Skywalker said with a nod, "the invasion."

"General Page informed me that we have Roj Kell to thank for this nasty surprise."

"He's always good for one," the Dark Lord agreed with a smile, "And the bad news?"

"First, Sarreti's position is far from secured, and second, Roj Kell is coming here, to Byss."

"You assume that he had a hand in those happenings?"

Voss Parck shrugged. "I do not put it past him. My information is incomplete as of yet, but that will change in the next few days. I have also contacted Captain Palleon, who was left in charge of Nirauan. Apparently renewed attacks on the base are imminent."

"What about Chi'in?"

That was a surprise. "You know?" the Admiral asked.

"Not the details. I was hoping to gain those from you," Skywalker countered coolly.

"We assume that the invaders have attacked our perimeter forts successfully. Chi'in was supposed to gather information out there and we believe he was surprised by the aggressors. You son - " he swallowed hard at the look the Dark Lord gave him, as if the other man was anticipating where this news would lead. "Your son volunteered for a recon mission into that area."

"What!" It was the Princess, who shot up from her seat, outrage marring her beautiful face. "You let him run after Chi'in, who knew far better what he was getting himself into and still failed?"

"Princess," Parck answered smoothly, finding it easier to deal with her than Skywalker himself, "he is a Jedi Knight and he has been briefed in depth on the dangers he and his companion are facing."

"Hold on," the Dark Lord said suddenly and held up a hand as if to emphasize his words. He seemed to be preoccupied with something, and suddenly a mirthless smile appeared on his lips. "Oh, very clever. Very clever indeed," he said, not caring to explain that cryptic comment further. "You say Kell is coming to Byss. Well, General Page's report left his intentions toward the Empire unclear, so I want you to contact him and ascertain that. Yana Dar is no ally of Tious Markhan and you will do everything you can to help Sarreti's scheme to succeed."

"That is quite a lot to ask," Parck countered weakly. 

"I trust in your abilities, Admiral. As for the New Republic's response to the threat at Nirauan... Give me three days and I will have the answer for you."

Voss Parck gave him a grim nod. Three days. That was a long time, a very long time, during which a lot of things could happen. "I will do my best," he promised.

"Father, what did you mean by that 'clever' comment?" Leia demanded as he rose from his seat and turned to leave. Looking back over his shoulder he gave her a blank stare. 

"Leia, it is just an idea. I will have to analyse this further," he explained calmly. 

"What idea?"

"Not now, okay?" he asked her gently. "You should inform Mon Mothma on Sarreti's plot."

She frowned at that. "I do not like that one at all. He wants to reestablish the Empire. And Yana as Empress!"

"You said she is an adept diplomat. Perhaps she will do well."

"As Empress?"

"Not every Empire is an evil one," Anakin reminded her with a smile. "Give her a chance." 

And with that he whirled away again and walked out of the door. He was too agitated to think of anything else than what Parck had said about the Unknown Regions. _He has been briefed in depth on the dangers he and his companion will be facing. _So Nuron was accompanying Luke, which was certainly no suprise. But that was not the point. The Unknown Regions were perhaps the most dangerous section in space there was, and the Chiss were the one race that, despite its philosophy of non-aggressve warfare, managed to control those threats, if sometimes only by a hairbreadth. 

If Kell had truly lured those invaders into an attack he could have chosen a much easier to conquer terrain. But by leading them nose-first into the Unknown Regions he had given the Chiss both the problem and the solution. It seemed clear to Anakin that the old man's plan was a complex one that went deeper than was apparent at first sight. He wanted to strengthen both the New Republic and the Chiss, and perhaps even the Empire. 

Leia had told him of her encounter with the ancient Sith and his long-dead lover, the Jedi Master Belana Jen, and he had been puzzled by the message. In his plans for the future Kell had seemingly excluded the Dark Lord completely from the overall scheme. With a slight shiver Anakin remembered Kell's outburst a year or so ago, when he had claimed that there was no future for either the Sith or the Jedi. Master Yoda had confided in Anakin that he feared that this statement was only all too true, and now, with Leia taking over and succeeding where her father had failed, he realized that the foundation for a new order would not be laid by him. 

He could see it clearly before his inner eye, with his daughter forming the bridge between the order and the interests of the New Republic, his son as the heart of the group and Nuron the blade. It was true what he had told Leia: his work was done. In a way it was a depressing truth, and yet, with his children continuing his legacy he was secure in the knowledge that it would last. That was, he reflected with a slight shock, if Nuron and Luke did not perish in the Unknown Regions. Hurrying toward his office with his heart hammering in his chest, he tried to keep calm and not panic. Hopefully the two of them were all right. 

Mara Jade was frowning at her companion's back fiercely. She felt uncomfortable with his plan and had told him so a few times on their way here, but Jix had insisted that the easiest way to get onto the transport to Byss would be to pose as workers. So they had hijacked a ship that was bringing supplies up to the Star Destroyer in orbit, the convoy's flagship, she assumed, and they were closing in on their target fast. That Jix was piloting the ship was another sore point, as if he did not trust her to keep her head in a crisis. It was annoying her no end that he treated her like a child ever so often, and although she recognized his greater experience she still hated his off-hand, typically Corellian comments. 

"Relax," he told her without looking around, anticipating her mood. 

"Relax?" Mara hissed, glad to be given an opportunity to lash out at him and vent her anger. "This will be a _disaster_, Jix."

"Your plan wasn't any better than mine, you know?"

"Less dangerous, that is for certain. A lot of ships get into Byss, and I know the proper codes," she insisted.

"If they were smart they changed those as fast as they could. They know what side you're on now. Remember what happened on Vjun? What if your code activates another nasty surprise like that?"

"We already found out that it was propably a hacker who was responsible for that," Mara countered sullenly. "You just want to get on board because you think Yana Dar might also be there."

"She could help us."

"She gave us this assignment in the first place," Mara reminded him coldly. 

"But things have changed. You heard what Karrde said about Ryloth and Nar Shadaa."

"So what? You wanna waltz into her cabin amd ask her for permission to come along?" She stared at him, incredulous, but he only shrugged and tried a tentative smile. 

"It's worth a try."

The planet Garqui spun slowly on its axis as the hours passed by, and Yana was idly speculating on her half-brother's fate. If Abla was to be believed Erinin would have handled their escape with ease. According to the slicer the man was about the best guardian one could wish for, an excellent fighter and a smart one. 

Three agents. She grimaced at the very thought. Three agents had been dispatched by the late Emperor on three different assignments that were all closely linked. One, Erinin, had been commanded to guard Irek at all costs, so Palpatine would have that vessel ready and waiting once the time had come. A second, Abla, had been assigned to oversee her own progress, to gently manipulate her into the trap the third had laid out for her. A trap that would only have been activated once it became clear that Irek was a tool without master, a dangerous weapon out of control. Now that he had proven to be useless he had to be eliminated. Those were her father's orders. Yana was quivering with silent rage at that command, that proved yet again what a monster had sired her. 

Abla had confessed that until a year and a half ago he had had no idea that he had been working with one of the other agents for years without ever realizing it, while serving Markhan. That other was Franzis Sarreti, the Grand Admiral's personal aide. Once Abla had discovered that there were more agents, he had done his best to uncover the third's identity and had found him by chance through Yana's dealings with Roganda Ismaren. 

She was still angry at him for having kept his mission secret, but she knew herself well enough to realize that she would not have allowed that plan to succeed, had she been aware of it. And despite his reassurances Abla was still loyal to his Emperor. On the other hand he admired her greatly, believing that she was extraordinarily talented and clever, and his fervent faith in her abilities was mellowing her resolve not to trust him again quite effectively. Yana did not even know whether Abla meant it or if that was just part of his scheme to direct her on the course her father had laid out for her. It was confusing her and that was something she did not appreciate in herself at all. 

Struck by a sudden thought she rose from her seat and frowned. If she went to talk with Roj Kell again she took a great risk in telling him too much. After their last meeting she had not dared visit him again, fearing that he might get back at her for her weak attempt at manipulating him into helping her. But days had passed since then and perhaps his temper had cooled again. From what she had witnessed on Byss Yana was certain that there had been no love lost between her father and his mentor, so there was still a reasonable chance that he would assist her to some extent at least. 

She walked over to the door and keyed it open, then made her way down the corridor slowly, listening to the sound of her heels clicking on the polished deck. Suddenly the wailing of an alarm siren rose over the steady background hum of the ship's engines and startled her. A few moments later four security guards came pounding toward her. One of them gave her a suspicious frown and stopped in front of her.

"Please return to your cabin," he told her sternly and nodded toward the room she'd just left.

"What is going on?" Yana asked, ignoring the others.

"I have no details for you, ma'am, and I am busy. Please proceed to your quarters. Now." 

He laid a hand on the handle of his blaster pointedly and Yana backed away with a soothing gesture, but silently vowed to herself to contact Abla and find out what was going on. Once back inside her cabin she immediately called up the slicer's comm code, and he answered the call promptly.

"Your sense of timing is not the best today," he said in low tones and Yana understood that he could not talk right now without betraying his position to the yet ignorant captain of the ship. Disconnecting the call again she stared off into the distance pensively and tried to get a read through the Force. There was excitement and determination, a sense of focus, but not much else. Where they being attacked? She doubted it. Then a knock at the door made her frown. Could Abla have come over to tell her what was happening? Wishing for any weapon at all she stalked over to the door and called up a visual of the unexpected visitor. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but then she opened the door and bade the man to come inside. 

"I must confess I had expected someone else," she told Wrenga Jixton sweetly, "but I suppose that this answers the question of why there's such a commotion going on out there. Sit down." He plopped down on a chair, eyeing her warily, while she went over to the small kitchenette and prepared two glasses of Corellian brandy. When she turned back to face him again she forced a smile on her lips. "I assume that you do not have the holocron yet?"

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how difficult it is to get into Byss?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Handing him his glass Yana looked down at him pensively. He looked kinda cute with that frown on his forehead. "Where is Jade?"

"We were separated."

Yana nodded to herself thoughtfully. "Then I will not be able to help her. You, sweet-heart, will stay in here until we reach Byss. Then we'll find a way to smuggle you off board and you will get the holocron and bring it to the Dark Lord."

"What about you?"

No questions as to her change of plan. So he had never meant to deliver the holocron to her in the first place. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she took a step closer to him. "You are in no position to ask questions, Wrenga Jixton. You and I had a deal."

"The Princess is safely back on Coruscant," he countered calmly. "As far as I am concerned that ends the deal."

Yana gave him an appraising smile. "So you kept in contact with your employer. Excellent."

"Not quite. Talon Karrde was so good as to lend us a hand."

"Karrde," she repeated softly. "Why is it that he is always a step ahead of me? That man is a nuisance if I ever saw one."

Jix smiled at her leisurely. "Perhaps it's a matter of experience and connections. You have the wrong ones, it seems."

"Have a care, my dear," Yana threatened coldly. "I know you are good, but some things require more than brute force and a knack for getting out of traps."

He shrugged easily and leaned back in the chair unconcernedly. "I don't know. If you'd be working with Markhan you wouldn't have invited me in in the first place, so I assume your own scheme is still up and running."

"Perhaps." Pursing her lips in silent calculation Yana took a sip of the brandy and smiled. "And perhaps you can still help me."

"Drop your weapons!"

She hesitated only for a moment, but Mara knew that she was caught. Straightening from her half-crouch she let her blaster fall to the deck with regret and raised her hands ever so slightly. The five stormtroopers who had cornered her did not relax at all, on the contrary, they seemed to tense even more. 

"Search her!" the obvious leader of the quintet snapped at the man to his left and that one carefully slung his rifle over his back and approached her cautiously. If she could grab his weapon and use his body as shield – The sound of boots clanking over the deck seemed to gain an echo, but then another man rounded the corner and Mara found her mouth hanging open. 

"Good work," Abla Othana told the troopers and strode briskly toward Mara, snatching up her blaster before he straightened and met her eyes again. "She is not as dangerous as you seem to think her to be. She's a green bird, that's all," he added, almost too low to hear and Mara gasped aloud. 

A green bird? That was an identification code used by the Emperor's closest agents, one she had been taught herself early on. Her master had told her several times that she would never, under no circumstances, meet another of her kind. They were not told the identities of their fellow agents, or their assignments. Of course, by now the entire galaxy knew that she had been an Imperial agent, but that Abla Othana would turn out to be another was indeed a surprise. Did Yana know? And did the troopers? 

She shot Othana a hard glare, but he merely smiled and turned away, her blaster tucked behind his belt. "I will question her later. Bring her to detention."

As she was being led away Mara was feverishly trying to bring all the bits and pieces of the puzzle in place. Yana wanted the holocron. Abla worked for Yana. Abla the very high-ranking Imperial Special Agent. Abla was obviously no prisoner, and, assuming that Yana was indeed on this ship and under arrest, that meant that Abla had betrayed her. Knowing who was in charge of Byss Mara could guess easily that Othana had been working for Tious Markhan all along. Which meant that Markhan had known that she and Jix were coming to Byss. They would have run head-long into that trap! But why had Abla revealed his rank to her? Was it a warning to keep quiet? Was he playing a double-game with both Yana and Markhan? Well, he had promised to question her and she would certainly make good use of that opportunity of a quiet get-together to gain some answers herself.

TBC


	16. Chapter 15 - Belief

Chapter 15 – Belief

"Sir! Navigation is online again. The tech teams are working overtime and I am confident that we will be ready to leave in about five hours."

Grand Admiral Thrawn gave a slow nod, but did not look around. He was completely immersed in studying the man in front of him. "Thank you, Sergeant Sujar," he said at last, a clear dismissal.

With the original command crew gone he had had to promote someone else to act as his second, and the middle-aged officer who was just leaving again had been the one who had shown extraordinary initiative after Irek Ismaren's flight from the Executor. He had taken over the deployment of the tech teams the New Republic fleet had lent them without even waiting for Thrawn's orders. But the Grand Admiral had been pleased by Sujar's efforts, and so his choice had been made. Which reminded him that he would have to promote Sujar to the rank of commander soon. 

Toss Halan and the rest of his team had left the Executor for destination unknown a few hours earlier, and Thrawn had not questioned them in their desire to leave the ship. 

In the background the silent noises of the medical ward went on, low, humming sounds, faint beeps and the steady beat of the life monitoring systems. A mass of cables and wires had been hooked to the patient and an oxygen mask covered the entire lower half of his face. When they had found him he had been barely alive and the medics on board were not certain if he would survive at all. Irek Ismaren's last action aboard the Executor had been an interesting move. From what he himself had experienced from the onslaught Thrawn suspected that it had been the boy's full intention to destroy the ship. But apparently his bodyguard had tried to hinder him from killing himself in the process. An effort that had been received most ungratefully. 

The extensive injuries – broken bones, heavy bruises and severe burns that had damaged blood vessels and even caused internal frictions and bleeding – bore testimony to a vicious attack, something the Grand Admiral would never have expected. 

"Did he get away?"

The voice was very weak and low, and immediately a medical droid bustled over to adjust the flow of oxygen to allow the patient to talk and breathe without passing out from the effort. His one eye blood-shot and its iris milky-white Erinin was gazing up at the ceiling, his hopeful question hanging in the air above him, unanswered as of yet. 

"Sir, you should not speak," the droid said sternly. "You must recover first."

Erinin wheezed softly, the sore reminder of a laugh. "I will not recover," he stated. 

"Your chances of survival stand by 2 percent," the droid told him with mechanical accuracy. Again a laugh. 

"You may leave us," Thrawn told the droid coldly, but it hesitated. 

"Sir, my programming – "

"Of no consequence right now. 2 percent are not much," the Grand Admiral reasoned. 

"It is my duty – "

"I have talked to Doctor Wynland. He confirms what I just said. What the patient also knows." The droid fell silent and retreated toward the far wall of the ward. Turning back to the patient Thrawn nodded slowly. "He managed to escape. Or rather, I decided to let him go."

"Why?" Erinin asked hoarsely. 

"I have better things to do than waste resources on hunting him down."

"Then why are you wasting resources on keeping me alive?"

The man was intelligent, no doubt about that. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tight smile. "You are right. I do not like leaving unfinished and potentially dangerous business behind. So I thought that you might help me in predicting the course he will take next. Will he try to find his mother?"

"No," the bodyguard wheezed. "He is looking for someone else."

"A father?"

Erinin smiled faintly. "You've seen it too, haven't you?"

"Yes." 

"Roganda – Roganda was – is – weak." The bodyguard's face turned pensive. "She could offer him no guidance – she was living only for her dreams of revenge." He paused to take a tortured breath. "Did you know that she loved you?"

"I – " He _had _known, hadn't he? "I guess I did," he admitted at last. 

"She tried to keep it secret from me, but I knew."

"What about her master?"

"Oh, he knew it too, of course. It – amused him how she – tormented herself with her day-dreaming. In the end she – blamed you for her ordeal."

Thrawn nodded glumly to himself. He had been aware of Roganda's obsession with him, of her hatred that had been borne out of girlish delusions, but he had not taken her seriously, had not considered her youth and the wounds she was inflicting upon her heart to bear her situation at all. Her thoughts of vengeance had easily been the only thing that had kept her going over the years. Irek must have suffered greatly from the lack of caring on his mother's part. 

He gave Erinin a sharp look. "But you were there for him," he said. "You cared for him."

"Yes. I do care for him – even now." Erinin paused once more and Thrawn noticed that his skin had grown even paler. Time was running out on them fast. 

"What is he looking for? What does he need?" he pressed on, leaning closer toward the bodyguard, not at all ashamed at setting the other under pressure now. He needed to know the truth.

"His sister, I believe," the man whispered.

"His sister?" Taken by surprise the Grand Admiral tensed. "What sister?"

"He loves her. She – is easy – on him and she is – willing to listen – to his needs." Erinin sighed deeply, obviously exhausted.

"Who? Who is she?"

But there was no answer.

"The Empire does not look kindly upon your betrayal, Andarack clan Rim'kai, " Padmé heard Commander Antham hiss just as she entered the ante-chamber of the quarters she had been given and where the Noghri warrior was standing watch. Giving Antham a bright smile she nodded at her bodyguard cheerfully. 

"I hope you are not threatening the dear commander," she admonished him, insinuating a warning that told the Noghri to stay clear of Antham. But she was wondering herself how the man could possibly have found out about Andarack's secret mission to Honoghr weeks earlier. 

"No threat," Antham snorted. "The Noghri are loyal to the Empire! He is alone with his views!"

So the death commandos had talked. Her lips twitching in disdain she favored her bodyguard with a calculating glance, but she could not read anything into his expression and his eyes. 

"Tell me, Commander," she began softly, "who is in charge of the commandos' deployments?"

"General Zi'Assime." He frowned all of a sudden. "That is – none of your business, Ma'am."

"Certainly. Any news on Cesh Kendar?"

"Not yet."

"That is strange. You did announce my presence publicly, didn't you?"

"Of course. You heard the announcement yourself," he replied stiffly. 

"Then why doesn't he come here?"

"Perhaps he was captured by the rebels," Antham ventured and Padmé mentally let out a triumphant cry. _Yes!_ The commander, who seemed to have realized his slip by now, gave her a hard glance. 

"The reason for my visit," he said suddenly, changing the subject, "was another, though."

"Really?" Padmé looked surprised. "What reason?"

"I would rather not have your staff walk the streets of Kala'uun alone. It might be dangerous for them."

Guiltily Padmé thought of Anja, who had put her charms to good use and convinced a young member of Antham's own corps to take her out into the mountains. If the commander found out that Andarack had also ventured beyond the city .... He probably had already, else he would not have commented now. 

"I understand," she said at last. "Thank you for drawing my attention to this."

"Good. That is all," Antham said and threw a last glance at Andarack. "I bid you a good night." 

And with those words he left. Waving a hand at her bodyguard silently Padmé waited for him to join her side. She walked over to the fresher silently, acutely aware of the cameras installed in the ceiling. Antham had suggested that they were offline, but he had also tried to tell her that there had been no rebellion on Ryloth. Turning on the shower at full force she took up a position just inside the doorway, where the cameras could not reach, and Andarack placed himself in front of her, his large eyes studying her intently.

"He suspects," she said quietly. "I fear we will have to act fast. The reason why he cannot locate Cesh Kendar must be that he is either dead or a prisoner."

"No proof," Andarack pointed out, equally calm.

"No, you are right." Padmé frowned at him. "What was he talking about back there?"

"What he chooses to believe."

"Meaning?"

"The Noghri serve the Empire. That is the deal we made."

"But you were going to try to get the death commandos on our side!" she hissed softly.

"A mission that failed, apparently," he explained, and Padmé was taken aback at the slightly ironic tone in his voice, that was very reminiscent of Chi'in. 

"What is Chi'in clan Rim'kai planning?"

"To help his people. The Empire will change."

"Did he say that?" Andarack nodded, but she had not really needed that confirmation. The Noghri would not lie to her, she knew. "How does he know?"

"He said it is logical. He said that the Republic's new position would force the reconstruction of the Empire."

"But your mission?"

"My lady, the death commandos risk much, and my people are all hostages. There is not much we can do for the Republic."

"But much the Republic can do for you. I see," Padmé mused aloud. "This General Zi'Assime. Antham did not seem sure whether the man was still in charge of that operation. Try to find out about him, will you?"

"Yes."

"And, Andarack," she said, stopping him short as he turned away. "Be careful."

"There they are!" 

Pointing at the viewport Nuron wore a fresh gleam in her golden eyes. Indeed, straight ahead the Shooting Star was cruising toward a small, green moon. The Star Destroyer had picked up a sizeable entourage of five heavy assault cruisers and four ships of a design Luke had never seen before. They were sleek and seemed to meld into the background easily, as if they were camouflaged somehow. As Luke steered the Morning Glory closer he felt anxious to see those ships up close. 

"They are hailing us," his co-pilot announced suddenly and gave him a pleading glance.

"Why don't you answer then?" he said encouragingly, and smiled at her. While she went through the formalities he was completely intent on the Chiss fleet. They had formed an arrow-head that pointed straight at the moon, with the Shooting Star and the heavy cruisers at the bottom and the rest spreading out above them. If those ships were as fast as they looked they would be able to strike quickly and hard. 

"Commander Al'than'erduo says hello," Nuron commented at last. "He's aboard that ship over there," she added, indicating one of the strange craft. Moving the Morning Glory closer to their destined target Luke felt his eyes widen in delight. The ship's hull was covered with an intricate pattern that created the blending effect he had noticed before. The colors shifted with their approach, always making the ship vanish partly, confusing the eye. "Nice touch," the Zabrak said, sounding genuinely impressed.

"Yes. They are beautiful." Up ahead the bulkhead seemed to suddenly split apart to open into a hangar bay, but then Luke realized that it had been open all the time, that the angle of their approach had simply disguised the opening. "Amazing," he ventured quietly, thoroughly awed. Settling their ship down on the deck carefully he was glad when he could sense the ship touch down. The optical illusion permeated even the cruiser's interior. Nuron was quick to vanish aft to gather their belongings, but Luke saw her slip her lightsaber underneath her tunic, out of sight. He wondered briefly at that, but he guessed that she simply did not want to affront their hosts. 

As they walked down the landing ramp of the Morning Glory side by side Luke had a hard time focusing on their welcome committee. The sights were simply too fascinating. Small single pilot star fighters had been berthed a bit to the left in neat rows, but as they walked further down the ramp the young Jedi noticed that the pattern they formed was pleasing the eye with its simplicity. He nudged Nuron's ribs slightly to draw her attention the the fighters, but she was staring ahead grimly. Following her gaze Luke felt a frown form on his forehead.

Commander Al'than'eruduo's uniform almost made him invisible against the coloring of the deck. Standing tall, his hands crossed on his back, he wore an unreadable expression on his face. Once the two newcomers had reached the deck he gave Luke a sharp nod. 

"Welcome back, Master Skywalker." Reluctantly he shifted his eyes to regard Nuron. "And you, Nuron Sarin."

Luke could almost see Nuron's shoulders sag with relief inwardly, but on the outside she remained stiff and tall. "Thank you, Commander," he answered smoothly and nodded at their surroundings. "A new ship?" 

Suddenly the commander's face lit up. "An old one. The base at Nirauan suggested that each officer train on the Imperial ships. The Shooting Star is not usually under my command. And I am not leading this fleet."

"If I may ask, who _is_ leading it?"

"Syndic Ech'an'dana. You may meet him later on. This," he said with a proud smile, "is the Chiss Stealth Cruiser Mahsenda. The Mahsenda are aquatic predators originating from Kynda'bey, a world close to SAO-209404, which also use optical illusion to cover their approach. By the way, Master Skywalker, I have taken the liberty of preparing something for you on that world."

"Thank you, Commander. A beautiful ship," Luke confessed sincerely and gestured toward the ceiling. "A truly inspiring craft."

"That she is," a beaming Al'than'erduo agreed readily and Nuron snorted at that.

"Men," she hissed under her breath. "Do you have any news on Master Chi'in?"

Al'than'erudo frowned at her pensively. "Not yet. We have found his ship, demolished, but it was not damaged in a crash. There are signs of battle close to the site and our scouts have discovered enemy fighters in the vicinity."

"You believe he has been taken prisoner?" Luke asked quietly.

"It is as good a guess as any other. Come. Let me show you to your quarters. Syndic Ech'an'dana has called a meeting to inform you on our progress and strategy. It will be held in five hours aboard the Shooting Star."

"Good!" Smiling at the Chiss brightly Luke felt his heart lighten ever so slightly. They were with friends now, and they would help them find Chi'in again. Everything would be well after all. 

Roganda, having summoned the courage to leave her perch on the bed at last, stood at the window overlooking one of the inner courtyards of the Imperial Palace. It brought back dire memories, sad ones mostly. She remembered walking those parks with Erinin and later with her little son, who had been fascinated by the flowers and trees. As a toddler Irek had been a most lovable child. His bright blue eyes had shone all the time. Until Palpatine had had him sent to Arkania, where Nasdra Magrody had been working together with the native scientists on a chip that was then implanted into Irek's brain. The experience had been horrible for the boy, she knew, but who was she to stand up to her master? 

Irek had lost his trust in her then. His disappointment in her letting those things be done to him, her apparent indifference to his suffering, had opened an abyss between them, one she had never been able to close again fully. Her master certainly had had no interest in her gaining too much control over his supposed heir, and so Erinin had taken over Irek's training and become his confidant. Roganda was aware of the fact that the bodyguard had regretted his part in separating Irek from her, but he had only considered the child's benefits and losses, not hers. 

When her son had left her back at Yaga Minor she had known that he must be glad to go, to be rid of her at last, but it hurt to face the truth. It hurt very much. 

"Roganda Ismaren?"

Her reverie interrupted she turned her head to glance at a youngish clerk who studied her questioningly. "Yes?" she asked.

"I have a call for you."

"For me? Who is it?"

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, apparently:" Her right hand flew up to her throat in shock. _That_ she had not anticipated. "Are you all right?" the clerk inquired, concern in his voice.

"Yes," she managed at last and took a few steps toward him. "I – " She threw a frantic look around. "Give me a few moments to – " Again she broke off, embarrassed.

He simply nodded, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping onto her pale cheeks. Vanishing into the fresher Roganda stared at her own face – an oval framed by long, black tresses of hair, her skin far too pale – and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. Who was she kidding? The days of youthful vanity were long past. She had grow older, resigned, and he would simply have to take her the way she was now. Not that she could afford vanity at this point. He had every reason to be angry with her, she had done her best to achieve that, after all. What was she thinking? Banishing her conflicting emotions into the back of her mind Roganda raised her chin haughtily, her black eyes turning cold and hard. Whatever might have been between them was now lost forever. There was no way back. 

But when she stood facing him again she could not help thinking that he had not changed one bit. His red eyes were unfathomable, but there was just a hint of sadness lingering around the corners of his mouth. Wearing his white uniform that set off his pale blue skin spectacularly he sat in his chair silently, simply regarding her for what seemed an eternity. 

Finally Roganda could not bear the silence any longer. "Can we speak freely?" she asked, and her voice surprised her. It had a pleading edge to it, a slight, breathless whining. Gulping down her sudden uncertainty she made herself look calm and composed, even though she knew that there was no fooling him. 

"Of course," he said softly. "I am alone," he added, to reassure her that no one would overhear whatever she had to say, implying at the same time that this would be a personal conversation.

Roganda nodded hastily. "My son. He is all right?"

"He is alive," was all he said, echoing what the Princess had told her already, but his tone had turned decidedly cold. 

"Did he hurt you?" she asked in a whisper. She had wanted to hurt him, had she not? Then why was she acting so apologetic now? Because she felt guilty, terribly guilty, over what she had done to her own child. 

"Not much. But he hurt others." Leaning toward her in his chair he sought her gaze and she made herself meet his eyes valiantly. "He killed his bodyguard, Erinin."

Roganda let out a loud gasp. "No!" Shaking her head in denial she turned pleading eyes on the Grand Admiral. "No, that cannot be true! Irek adored him!"

"Apparently he has grown out of that sentiment," Thrawn answered drily and she perceived his tone as unnecessarily cruel. Sinking to the floor in numb acceptance of the inevitable Roganda waved the clerk away when he rushed toward her to help her up again. 

Her every nightmare had come true. Only hours before she had told Leia that she would never let her son become a simile of his father. But she had achieved exactly that with her foolishness. Her voice was hollow when she said: "I cannot believe that I let it come so far. I should have protected him better."

"Your son is searching for a purpose," he told her. "He is trying to find his place in this galaxy and he needs someone to show him the way."

"Erinin was his idol," Roganda repeated. "But I suppose Irek realized that, as bodyguard, he would never dare assume the role of a guide, that he would always defer to his charge."

Thrawn kept silent for a long time. "Roganda," he addressed her softly at last. "Before he died Erinin told me that Irek has a sister."

"Half-sister." She nodded to herself, resignation covering her fear and despair gradually. "Her name is Yana Dar. She is an information broker of notable skill and reputation. Irek adores her too," she added with a bitter laugh. "She is smart and she doesn't scrape or bow to him."

"She is Force-strong?"

Roganda shook her head. "No. At least I do not think so."

"You don't, by any chance, know where she is right now?"

"No, I am sorry," she sighed. "I really am sorry. I made a terrible mistake, Grand Admiral. I wanted to hurt you, and I used any means available to achieve that goal. I used my own son for my ends and it has brought him nothing but darkness. Whatever I can do to make that mistake undone – "

"Would you betray your son?" he asked harshly and Roganda's eyes widened in shock. "No? I thought so. Then don't make promises you cannot keep. Your son is dangerous. Personally, I believe he is insane. If I find him again I will not hesitate in eliminating that threat. But I have other worries that concern me more than your son's fate. My only reason for calling was to hear your apology."

"Then you forgive me?" Her voice broke.

Glowing eyes narrowed ever so slightly he stared at her hard. "You acted to the best of your knowledge," he told her coldly. "And I understand that you were a victim of your master's manipulations."

"I know," she sobbed quietly, realizing that his goal had been to see her humiliated all along, to confront her with her own miserable life and tell her to the face that she was a fool, an imbecile, who had fallen in absolutely every trap her master had laid out for her. Crying openly now she did not dare meet his eyes again. Once upon a time she had hoped that he would become her savior, but he had disappointed her even then. And with her stupid scheme of revenge she had lost even what little respect he might have had for her before. The question was whether she wanted to earn it once more, of whether she could accept her failure. 

"Roganda, please, look at me," the Grand Admiral said at last. She obeyed instanly, not at all ashamed at the hopeful expression she must be wearing on her tear-streaked face. He did not smile at her, but she fancied that his eyes had softened just a bit. "Your son has no one left to guide him, and if I do not find him first someone else will. Perhaps this someone will teach him and bring him back, but he might just as well use his powers for his own ends, the way you did, become his master. The third possibility – " he stopped, the threat plain even if it remained unspoken. That Irek would die. "You now have a chance to recognize your mistake and move on. Use it well."

When Andarack came back from his scouting mission three hours later than expected, with a makeshift bandage covering a nasty blaster burn on his left shoulder and a battered-looking Twi'lek in tow, Padmé knew they were in trouble. 

"Anja!" she called. "Whatever isn't packed yet will be left behind."

Her secretary strode into the living-room wordlessly, two bundles slung across her back, and handed Padmé a third. "Everything is ready," she announced. "I have contacted Captain Ithik of our untimely departure. He will meet us on the surface."

"First we have to get there," Padmé reminded her briskly and ran a hand over the Noghri's wound. "Is it bad?"

He shook his head, then indicated his companion. "This is Cesh Kendar. You were right. There _are_ detention camps out in the mountains," he told Anja, who gave him a proud smile. 

"Excellent. No time for anything more detailed now, we gotta go. Hurry!" Pushing Andarack and Anja ahead of her Padmé gripped her blaster firmly and gave Cesh Kendar a grim nod. 

"General Page, did he get out?" he asked breathlessly as they followed the Noghri through the mostly empty hallways of the building. 

"Yes. Silent now, we need to spare our strength."

Rounding a corner she found her way blocked by the motionless forms of four troopers and had the presence of mind not to stumble over that unexpected obstacle. She could just make out Anja vanishing behind another corner and made a dash toward her. But Cesh Kendar was in no shape to keep up. Wheezing pitifully he labored after her and Padmé turned back toward him with concern. He seemed to be half starved and dehydrated and his eyes looked incredibly tired. 

"Just – leave me here," he whispered, but Padmé ignored him.

"Anja!" she hissed, to gain her aide's attention. The woman returned hastily, her face flushed with concentration. "He won't make it without help," Padmé explained to her and frowned. "Where is Andarack?"

"There they are!" a voice shouted from behind them and Padmé threw her head around to stare at more stormtroopers spilling into the corridor. Some already held their blasters ready. Not wanting to risk to find out the hard way whether the weapons were set on stun or kill Padmé darted for the corner, dragging Cesh Kendar after her while Anja pushed from behind. The Twi'lek was their sole witness, and they had to bring him out alive. 

Up ahead the sound of blaster fire told them that Andarack was keeping himself busy too. Studying the doors leading from the corridor Padmé chose one at random and opened it. Anja and Kendar followed right behind. "Jam the lock," she ordered her aide and the woman complied instantly, frying the circuitry with a single shot from her blaster. Padmé gave the room a thorough once-over and grimaced ever so slightly. There was no other way to get out except a ventilation grid installed into the ceiling.

"I think we are trapped," Anja commented quietly.

"Not yet. Give me a hand here. Perhaps I can loosen that grid." Anja folded her hands and formed a stirrup for Padmé to place her left boot in, but just as she was propelled upward Cesh Kendar's voice startled her.

"No! The grids are booby-trapped!" Both women turned large eyes at him. "To keep rodents and insects out," he explained. 

Hastily ripping a piece of cloth off her sleeve Padmé knotted it together a few times, then threw it at the grid to see if it really was electrified. The cloth turned to sizzling ashes instantly upon reaching the target. Just at that moment a loud crash at the door announced the impending visit of a few unwelcome guests. Hefting her blaster tightly Padmé nodded at Anja. 

"I suppose we have no other choice – "

Overhead the ventilation grid clattered ominously, then popped out of its hinges and landed on the floor with a loud jingle. 

"Get moving!" Andarack ordered as he leaned out of the ventilation shaft, extending a clawed hand toward Padmé. The booming noise returned, angrier this time. Very soon the troopers would break through. 

"Cesh Kendar first," she insisted and dragged the Twi'lek over toward the opening. Anja helped her hoist the alien up and it really was a struggle, but once Andarack got a grip on Kendar's hand everything went very quickly. "Anja Dumilor is next," the Noghri told them and for a moment Padmé felt uncertain. He noticed her hesitation and gave her a wry smile. "You are next after her, but I must be last," he explained. "You are too short to reach up here."

"And you aren't?" she asked nastily, but did not protest further. She staggered a bit under Anja's weight, and heaved a relieved sigh when the Noghri dropped down next to her. Holding her legs he lifted her toward Anja, the taller of the two, who grabbed Padmé's hand and drew her up into the shaft. It was very dark in there, and Padmé threw a fearful look down at the Noghri. "Andarack! Hurry! We won't find the way without you!" she hissed, but just at that moment the door broke out of its frame. 

"The ventilation shaft!" someone shouted and three troopers immediately ran toward the opening, blaster rifles cocked at an upward angle. 

"Get back!" Padmé ordered her companions and scrambled further down the shaft. Three shots blew gaping holes into the ceiling and she screamed in surprise and fear. "Everyone all right?" she whispered, once she had calmed down once more. Stuttering blaster-fire filled their ears. 

"Yes," Anja answered quietly.

"Yeah," Cesh Kendar added.

Padmé considered crawling back toward the opening to check on Andarack, but that would be plain stupid. When he suddenly appeared in front of her, jumping lightly into the shaft opening, she screamed again, but this time the scream turned into relieved laughter. 

"How did you do that?" she asked as they hurried down the shaft, the Noghri in the lead. 

"Stormtroopers make for quite comfortable ladders," he answered and she could imagine his smile in the dark. For some reason he reminded her more and more of Chi'in. 

"Tell me," she began hesitantly, "is everyone in your clan related somehow?"

Turning his head he gave her a surprised glance. "Of course. Chi'in clan Rim'kai is my great-uncle."

"Ah." Padmé nodded to herself in satisfaction. But in the farthest corner of her mind she wondered whether Andarack might not share more with his relative than his combat skills.

"Captain Ithik will pick us up at the upper main ventilation exhaust," he explained. 

Padmé refocused her thoughts on their escape. "Good. Let's hope we make it that far." 

They did make it. And a few hours later they were safely in hyperspace and on their way back to Coruscant.

"I still am not sure what this is about," Tomas Piett repeated, but the initial surprise had faded somewhat. 

"Well, neither am I," the woman sitting across from him countered. She looked rather relaxed and she wore a smile on her face. Tomas had had plenty of time to find out more about his mysterious rescuer and would undoubtedly have found out more if she had been willing to talk. As it was, though, Raisa had proven to be pretty close-mouthed beyond what politeness demanded. 

Since his arrival Tomas had established contact to the local government and made new arrangements on behalf of the Republic. Now, as he sat in the living-room of the apartment they had rented, waiting, he mused that he might have been a bit too successful on his last mission. There had been seven calls so far, five representatives of worlds he had visited on his diplomatic trip to ensure loyal allies for the Republic. The more problematic ones, though, were the two representatives of the former Imperial Court, Anto Andorwyn and Nya Olesh, both Kuati and both wealthy and influential, who had also announced their impending visit. 

After the Rebel Alliance's victory over Coruscant and the truce with Grand Admiral Thrawn the Core Worlds had sworn allegiance to the New Republic quickly. Most moffs and governors had left their territories then, to rejoin the Empire, which had still remained strong in quite a few systems. With them the Imperial Court had also scattered. Lord Skywalker had informed Tomas of the scheme Princess Leia had uncovered on Yaga Minor, and therefore Andorwyn's visit was not entirely unexpected. Perhaps not at all, considering the latest information he had received. 

Grand Admiral Tious Markhan had proven an adept diplomat with his move on Yaga Minor, which had appeased many. If the New Republic now addressed the public again with seemingly baseless accusations in connection with Ryloth Mon Mothma's government would lose much credibilty. Therefore Piett had been pleasantly surprised by the positive responses he had gotten from the Bibringi government and the others, yet he was also agitated. What would they say to Andorwyn's presence? 

At first glance it might seem foolish to invite all of them not only to a private apartment, but additionally to include an Imperial representative. But Tomas knew his visitors well and their motives were clear to him. Andorwyn and Olesh would ask for asylum, perhaps, in any case for a deal with the New Republic to protect them against Markhan's wrath. The others would want reassurance that the New Republic government would not let itself be embarrassed again. So the Admiral was feeling pretty confident, despite the few uncertainties. He knew exactly what this would be about, contrary to what he had just told Raisa, but he was not a man who took things for granted. When he had served the Dark Lord he had learned that subterfuge and manipulation made life in politics very interesting. And unfortunately he now was a politician, not a fleet commander any longer. 

"Here they come," Raisa announced when the doorbell chimed twice. She rose from her seat to open the door and threw Piett one last look. "You'll do well, I am sure," she said softly, to his great surprise. As it turned out, though, he would be pretty overwhelmed by what happened next. 

The first mild shock was the presence of Lemit Zickorey, current governor of Bilbringi, who led the small procession of representatives into the room with a big, benvolent smile on his face. Tomas, who had taken up position next to the window in a rather relaxed pose straightened with a start. "Sir!" he exclaimed, before he caught himself again and extended a hand toward Zickorey with renewed confidence. "A pleasure to have you here."

"The pleasure is all mine, Admiral."

"Councilor Pi, Senator Quek," Piett nodded at the representatives of Rhinnal and Chandrila,

"I am honored by your coming here. Minister H'jer and Lady Fawl, I am very pleased to welcome you tonight," he told the pair that had come on behalf of Esseles and Brentaal. The last into the room was a tall human who gave the others a hard glance. The Admiral greeted him with a military nod: "General Oethal, an honor." 

So, the ambassador from Corulag was also here. Now they only had to wait for the Kuati to arrive and half of the worlds of the Perlemian Trade Route would be represented here. Tomas addressed the assembly with a pleasant smile. "Thank you again for coming, all of you. I am sure your business is a serious one, but I suppose we all can deal better with it sitting down. Please, after you." He waited until his guests were seated before he took a place next to Zickorey. The governor gave his fellows a short nod, before he turned toward Piett once more.

"We will not deny that we are all somewhat disturbed by current events in the political arena. The Empire is trying to regain the worlds it has lost to the New Republic over the past year while the New Republic itself is striving for more power." Tomas said nothing, so Zickorey continued after a brief pause. "Therefore we, myself and my esteemed collegues, have discussed these events at length and come to a conclusion. Although we recognize the great part the New Republic leaders played in our liberation from the Empire we do not want to become political pawns like Ryloth. We have therefore decided to form a confederation."

"I can see that this comes as a bit of a shock," Lady Fawl injected gently and leaned toward the gape-mouthed Admiral with a smile. "But you see, we are under the impression that neither the Empire nor the New Republic care for our worlds for our own sake, only for theirs. That is, of course, understandable, but we want a stronger position between them. We do not want our trade regulations dictated by one or the other, we want independence."

"I understand," Piett croaked at last, "but let me assure you that the New Republic will be most fair with – "

"Admiral," Zickorey interrupted him, "we all have heard your arguments. We all are aware of the Republic's generous offer. Unfortunately we see ourselves unable to committ to it."

"I – I am at a loss of what to say," Tomas confessed, exhaling slowly. This certainly was any diplomat's nightmare! On cue the bell chimed again and a few moments later Raisa led Anto Andorwyn and Nya Olesh into the living-room. Frosty silence settled over the assembly and Piett was too shocked to say anything. 

Finally Senator Quek of Chandrila spoke up: "Your presence, Lord Andorwyn, does not come as a surprise to us. We are all aware of why you have come."

"To speak to Admiral Piett," the Kuati replied haughtily. "I can see that he is busy, though. And his apparent intent to have the two of us meet you, too, leads me to doubt his diplomatic skills," he added in an acid tone. 

"You are quite mistaken there!" Zickorey crowed gleefully. "Admiral Piett was just about to accept the presidency for the soon to be established Confederate Zone."

"What?" the Admiral whispered, unnoticed.

"Is that so?" Andorwyn mused aloud, a calculating glance in his eyes. "Then it would be my pleasure to offer Admiral Piett my assistance. I am certain we could come to a mutual agreement concerning Kuat."

Anakin was in quite a good mood when he received the call by Tomas Piett and he was certain that the Admiral did not appreciate his amusement at all, when he told him about what had happened at that unfortunate meeting on Bilbringi.

"This is a catastrophe!"

"Is it, Piett?" the Dark Lord chuckled. "Why? You have proven that you are probably one of the very best diplomats this galaxy has ever seen. And you have been offered the post as president for that new secor they want to found. That is a great compliment, to my mind."

"You don't understand! They are _sincere_! Even Andorwyn!"

"I understand very well, Admiral," Anakin countered, his mirth fading somewhat. "But I am not sure if that is such a bad idea."

"How so?"

"A matter of administrative effort and competition, export and import, diplomatic entanglements, military alliances. The possibilities are endless. If there were three, or four if we count the Hutts, seperate and independent governments in the galaxy I believe we could achieve a much more stable state of affair than if we fight the Empire for dominance."

"Sir, are you serious?"

"It needs some more thought, but it is worth a discussion. By recognizing their independence we show other worlds that we are not like the Empire, who is playing foul on Ryloth."

"Do you have finally found proof for that?"

"My wife is on her way back, and she does have proof."

"Ah. Excellent." Piett remained silent for a short while. "I see your point, Lord Skywalker. It all comes down to Ryloth, doesn't it? What is happening there will happen on a larger scale all over the galaxy. Everyone will be looking for the one government that can serve their interests best."

"I suppose so," Anakin answered with a smile. "A new beginning. In every sense of the word. I believe we can only postpone the inevitable. But if one government tries to rule this galaxy alone ..." he hesitated. "It is a matter of belief. We had only the Empire to believe in, but with the exploits of the Old Republic to remember that belief could not last. Now people can believe in the New Republic and still have the example of the Empire before them and can believe that it is better to live in the New Republic than the Empire. Just as your friends decided they can believe in neither government, but could believe in you."

"You mean that with different governments each government will find itself competing with the other?"

"Yes. An independent control system, if you will. If one government turns hostile, I am sure the others will remember the past and intervene."

"And who will keep the memories alive?"

"That, my friend, will be the duty of the Jedi."

But he knew that this could not be their only duty. They also were the ones who, if they retained their independence, would be able to fathom the different political schemes going on. The way Leia was attempting to now, and what he was doing still. It had begun with the revelation about Roj Kell's scheme, which had initiated something completely different than had been apparent at first sight. And it had forced Anakin to ponder Yana Dar's motives more closely, hers and those of her allies. Sarreti's, for one. He knew that the man could not have acted on his own and the most convenient connection to Yana would have been Abla Othana, a known Imperial agent. Abla, who had also worked with Joral. 

And the Hutt, as Temann Page had confirmed, in turn had been receiving his orders both from Tious Markhan and a mysterious someone, probably Sarreti. Who apparently had deployed an agent to Ryloth to do exactly what Kell had done there. The agent sent had been a Sith, if Joral's words were to be believed. How else could he have assumed that Kell was a Sith in the first place, if he had not been expecting one? And expect him he had. The mysterious opponent of Tious Markhan now had a name and the only one missing was his agent. Unfortunately Anakin had a dire suspicion as to who that one might be. But he had to wait just a little bit longer until he would have him within his grasp again.

Luke and Nuron had spent a few quiet hours together, enjoying the small luxuries their cabin had to offer. Now, though, they were getting ready for their meeting with Syndic Ech'an'dana. Luke was dressed in a simple black uniform while Nuron had donned her Sith attire. She did look magificent, beautiful and deadly, Yet her eyes were full of love and made him smile fondly. 

"Think you are up to a strategic session?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"Well, I might not have trained with Father, but I suppose you'll manage for me," he replied with a grin. There was a knock on the door. Disengaging from her lover Nuron walked over and opened it. As expected their visitor was Commander Al'than'erudo.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, of course." For a moment Luke considered taking his lightsaber with him, but then decided against it. Nuron had also left her weapons behind. "Let's go," he said as he joined Al'than'erduo out in the corridor. 

On their way to the shuttle that would take them over to the Shooting Star the commander told them a bit more about the fleet. The Star Destroyer had been given to the Chiss by the Emperor, but the Council had never officially acknowledge that gift, because it had been made to Grand Admiral Thrawn. Over the last year, though, the Council had adopted an easier stance toward the base at Nirauan. Now Chiss went to study with the soldiers stationed there and the officers of the fleet were required to serve a contingent of hours on one of the Imperial ships. The Stealth Cruisers made up most of the fleet, though. 

"Perhaps you will get a chance to fly our scout craft, too," Al'than'erudo finished his report as they walked through the hangar bay toward the shuttle.

"Those would be the fighters we first saw in the Mahsenda's hangar?" Luke asked.

"Yes. They are not all that useful in combat, but excellent scout ships."

"I think I would really like to try a ride in one of those," the young Jedi admitted wistfully. 

The short trip on the shuttle was spent mostly in silence, and somehow Luke regretted that the meeting was being held on the Star Destroyer. He would rather have stayed on the Mahsenda and discovered more of that ship. 

Once arrived on the Shooting Star Al'than'erudo led them toward a strategic meeting room, where a 3D star chart had been displayed already. Chiss faces regarded the newcomers dispassionately, but Luke could sense that Nuron felt incredibly uncomfortable. No wonder. If all commanders were like Al'than'erudo –

"I bring you Master Skywalker and his companion, Nuron Sarin," Al'than'erudo told the assembly. 

"Ah," a booming voice greeted them and an elderly Chiss came around the star chart, a smile on his face. "We have heard much about you," he said. "I am Ech'an'dana, commander of this battle-group."

"We are – uh – grateful for your assistance," Luke tried awkwardly.

"Assistance? I was given to understand that you would assist _us_. Commander Al'than'erudo will be taking his flight out for a scout mission into the Lieman Corridor soon. Since your friend has apparently been taken there also I thought you might want to accompany the commander."

"You know where they went?" Nuron asked, frowning.

"Undoubtedly they will gather reinforcements to attack Nirauan in greater numbers."

"You believe this was only a foray party?" she asked further. 

"Evidence seems to point that way. They have sent out scouts to secure an attack corridor and that is the one I need you to gather intelligence on, A dangerous mission, but the two of you have trained with Master Chi'in." He made it sound as if it were the highest military honor to have studied with the Noghri. Luke could only agree.

"How many scouts?" the Zabrak continued, ignoring the praise.

"To our knowledge there are currently sixteen smaller vessels and four larger ones." Syndic Ech'an'dana gave Nuron an appraising look. "Commander Al'than'erudo already told me that you have a gift for tactics, Nuron Sarin. If you would step this way, I would like to show you the defensive pattern we had planned."

Eyebrows rising in consternation Luke found himself staring at Al'than'erudo. _Al'than'erudo_ had told his superior that _Nuron_ had a gift for _tactics_? Eyeing the Chiss suspiciously Luke wondered whether they might have misinterpreted the man's comments aboard the Shooting Star completely. The other was gazing straight ahead, as if afraid to meet Luke's gaze. Following his line of sight Luke noticed that this slightly embarrased look was directed at Nuron, who was barely visible on the other side of the star chart. _Aha!_

He took a step closer to Al'than'erudo, hoping to make the other a bit more uncomfortable. 

To his surprise the Chiss turned his head abruptly and his glowing red eyes met the Jedi's seemingly unimpressed. Again Luke had to admit that Al'than'erduo was, all in all, probably quite attractive to females. But Nuron did not make the impression as if she had fallen for his looks. Quite the contrary. Nevertheless he vowed to himself that he would keep a very close eye on the commander.

TBC


	17. Chapter 16 - The Meaning of Prophecy

Chapter 16 – The Meaning of Prophecy

Walking at Sarreti's side the Grand Admiral could not help the frown on his face as they entered the meeting room together, where the moffs and governors were already waiting for them. It had been Sarreti's idea to put their visitors at ease by coming to them instead of the other way round. The lieutenant had stressed that they did not want to give them the impression that they were regarded as pawns. No, they had to retain the illusion that they were important to the scheme somehow, which was, strictly speaking, even true. He had to hand it to Sarreti, the man was the perfect diplomat. He was smiling even now, a pleasant smile that did not even seem to be a fake one. Astounding.

Then Sarreti turned his head ever so slightly to nod at him and Markhan responded with a low growl of annoyance. But in the end he managed to compose the thunderstorm he wore on his face into a much brighter expression and addressed the assembly.

"Welcome to Byss," he began the speech Sarreti had prepared. "I trust your voyage was a pleasant one and that we did not make you wait for too long." There were a few smiles and incredulous looks directed his way. That was the problem with the speech. It was not Tious Markhan's style at all. Gritting his teeth he suppressed an urge to exlode into anger and continued."You have already been briefed on the why and how of this meeting and I trust we can come to a swift resolution."

"We are missing someone with you," someone said suddenly. Markhan recognized Moff Hah Kima of Anobis as the speaker and immediately notched him down as a possible interloper. "Yana Dar is who I am referring to," the bearded moff continued.

"She will join us shortly. Tomorrow at the latest," Sarreti answered smoothly, that smile still in place. And that was the end of the farce. The lieutenant took a seat at the conference table with the others and Markhan had no choice but to follow, making his part in this scheme even clearer. He was uncomfortably aware of the contemptuous glances and smirks he attracted, but he resolved to remain dignified. 

"Does she realize her role in this?" Kima inquired calmly, and a few others nodded in agreement to the question. All eyes turned on Sarreti, whose smile widened just a fraction. 

"She is aware of her part in this, yes."

"But she has not yet agreed."

"She has. A few days ago. Alas I have no message to reassure you, so we will have to wait for her arrival. My aplogies. But let us discuss a much more important aspect of the plan. 

I made a proposal to you a few weeks ago that I have asked you all to consider thoroughly. Yana Dar, as the Emperor's daughter, is the rightful heir to the throne. I have told you then, and am telling you again today, that an Empire without an Emperor, or Empress for that matter, is no Empire at all. Over a year now we have been without real leadership. The warlords have tried to gain power as well as the nobles of the former court. All they achieved was to sow discord among us, as events at Yaga Minor and Ord Mantell have shown clearly. This state cannot continue any longer. We must be united again or admit defeat and abandon the Empire once and for all." Sarreti turned serious all of a sudden and his pale eyes seemed to gain a cold edge. "I know very well that each one of you cares more about his or her personal wealth and power than the Empire. Yet you also know that the people, your people, will not tolerate your rule for long if they have nothing to believe in, to trust in. Especially not with the New Republic an ever-present example of democracy. Rebellion will arise all over our realm."

"What do you suggest exactly?" one of the governors interrupted him suddenly. "Reforms? What sort of reforms? Will they – "

"Endanger our positions?" Sarreti finished for him, an unmistakable reminder of who was in control of the scheme. "Yes, there will be reforms, but I guarantee that they will benefit you too. Yana Dar is an adept business-woman and she will see the point in keeping her administrators satisfied. Which leads us to our next point. Are you loyal to the Empire or to your selves?" Somehow he managed to sound incredibly menacing, despite the lack of emotion in his tone. And one by one the moffs and governors declared their loyalty to the Empire. At last the lieutenant looked at his superior and Tious Markhan, his mouth almost dropping open, frowned deeply. 

"Sir?" Sarreti asked quietly, waiting. 

"I am loyal to the Empire," the Grand Admiral grated out at last.

"Then we are agreed. The details will be – "

"Not so fast," Kima injected, his voice hard, and to Tious' surprise and relief his glare was directed at Sarreti.

"You have more questions?" the lieutenant asked pleasantly. "Please, go ahead." 

"All of us," and here Kima gestured toward the assembly, "know that this is your idea, and I for one wonder what you get out of it."

"You believe my intentions to parallel those of Grand Admiral Markhan?"

"Of course we do! Politics aside, we all know what this is really about."

"Would you care to enlighten me?" Sarreti had the gall to ask. 

Hah Kima took a deep breath. "I cannot believe that you have no desire whatsoever to turn this to your advantage. You have arranged everything, used your superior for your own ends, and now you want to tell us that it was all for a noble cause?"

"I never said it was a noble cause," the lieutenant snapped. "My orders were to prepare the Empire for the rise of Yana Dar as legal successor in case of the late Emperor's demise, to keep incompetent fools like Markhan from destroying his life's work. _Those_ were my motives, and nothing else."

The loud gasps and shocked faces all around the table confirmed Tious Markhan's suspicion that his aide had made a grave mistake. First he had called his superior a fool, even though Tious' motives were exactly the same this assemply harbored, thereby insulting them too. Second, more importantly, by claiming to have followed orders he had revealed his true identity as one of Palpatine's secret agents. The moffs and governors might talk about being loyal to the Empire, but it was a very naive traitor who believed those words to be true. Of course they all saw the value in praising the Emperor even now, since dancing out of line could mean immediate annihilation, but secretly it was understood that the Empire was a convenient excuse for acquiring personal power. Palpatine had seen to nurturing this view, too. The presence of a man who was unquestioningly and _sincerely _loyal to the Emperor was a danger that could not be ignored. 

By now Sarreti had also realized that he was caught. His features turned blank gradually, his eyes even harder than before. It suddenly occurred to Tious that any agent of Palpatine's, regardless to what other skill he might possess, was most certainly also a trained assassin. And he was sitting right next to one! Rising abruptly he straightened his uniform and gave each attendee a cool look.

"This is how it is," he said, falling back into his own self. "He is right in one point: we must work together for the greater benefit of every one of use. Yana Dar can be very useful, whether she is Palpatine's daughter or not. That will have to be proven first, of course."

"You know it is true," Sarreti snorted. "You have checked her identity as thoroughly as it was possible short of travelling back in time and attending her conception."

Markhan's face reddened with anger and embarrassment. "Who knows? Perhaps you have manipulated the data too?" he countered loudly. Sarreti merely smiled.

"What to do about him?" someone asked and again the lieutenant was the focus of attention. 

"He might also be of use yet," the Grand Admiral mused aloud and his eyes narrowed in anticipation of a quiet little talk with his aide. Now that the others were here and had apparently accepted him as leader until Yana Dar had arrived, he might still be able to turn this to his advantage. 

"Ah, Admiral Parck."

Stopping short with a frown Voss Parck regarded Tious Markhan suspiciously. What was going on? And where was Sarreti? He had just returned from his short trip out of the system to contact Coruscant and he had fully expected to find Yana Dar initiated as Empress already. Obviously something had gone very wrong. 

"I have thought about your request," the Grand Admiral continued cheerfully and nodded at someone standing behind the Admiral. "I would advise you not to make any sudden movements, my dear," he told Puket pleasantly when the Twi'lek whirled around to face the five stormtroopers crowding into the office. Voss Parck gritted his teeth in dire anticipation.

"And what is your answer?" he asked at last.

Markhan shrugged. "As I see it the Empire can deal with any threat that might come out of the Unknown Regions," he explained lightly. "Your people are one of the dangers, you understand, as the traitorous actions of Grand Admiral Thrawn have proven. I therefore will not shed a single tear if those mysterious invaders wipe out every single one of you, the Chiss included." 

Struck speechless Voss Parck cursed himself for having acted too slow. He should never have stayed here, should never have trusted Sarreti's scheme to succeed. Now it was too late, he knew. "If _we_ do not survive this onslaught you will neither," he promised. 

"We shall see about that, Admiral. Sergeant, you have your orders."

"Duck!"

Obeying his bodyguard's shouted command Parck dropped to the floor and an instance later a loud boom shook the room and transparisteel splinters were flying everywhere. Someone grabbed the back of his uniform jacket and drew him upright again. Stumbling along he tried a weak protest when Puket dragged him toward the broken viewport. His head started spinning when she hopped onto the window-sill and he looked down, only to find that they were ten storeys above ground. 

"Puket – " he tried, but she cut him off immediately.

"Trust me." A loud thud told him that she had fired her ascension gun into the window frame. And then she jumped, carrying him with her.

She looked up when he closed the door behind him and her emerald eyes were scrutinizing him with undisguised suspicion. Abla leaned against the door-frame casually, just watched her watch him. After a while she gave a low snort and shook her mane of red hair impatiently.

"Come on, out with it. Why this 'private' conversation?" 

"Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand," he said with a smile. "It seems that your predecessor has fouled up mightily." She cocked her head to one side, incredulity plain in her eyes. He had caught her off-guard. Excellent. 

"My predecessor? What are you talking about?"

"Roganda Ismaren, who else?" he shrugged. Mara frowned at him deeply.

"You are another," she countered softly. A smart woman. Of course, if she were not smart

she never would have survived so far. 

"Not really. The Emperor's Hand is assassin, thief, spy and decoy rolled in one and her tasks are much more varied than what the likes of us have to perform." Abla gave her a slight, mocking bow, but she did not buy into that. 

"Varied as in concubine?" she asked. 

"Ah. No, you misunderstand. Roganda's role was a much more important one than simply that." Yes, very true. She was the one who had born the Emperor's son, a madman possessed with incredible powers and a mind that could cut this galaxy into shreds if he ever found his focus and guidance. Abla's mouth twisted ever so slightly in disgust. Then Mara spoke up again. 

"You sure you want to tell me? Knowing where I stand now?"

"Your connections to the New Republic might prove useful. And additionally you have had the training, the conditioning, that makes you understand our actions too."

"Our actions?" Mara rose from where she had been sitting on the floor and took a step toward him. "Then you are not the only one," she stated, wonder and suspicion mixed in her gaze. "Why?"

"Call it precaution," Abla countered. "There are two of us. Three, if you are willing to participate."

"What!" she snorted. "Are you mad? Why should I help you?"

"Because it would be the smartest move you could make right now. But I am getting ahead of myself. Fact is, Mara Jade, that your knowledge could complement our own and give this enterprise a successful start."

"What enterprise would that be?"

"The rebirth of the Empire. As we speak my partner is preparing everything for a new beginning under the ruling hand of Yana Dar. You have met her, you know what she can accomplish. Once we have reached Byss the moffs and governors will swear allegiance to her."

"But she did not know, did she?" Mara mused aloud. "If she had known she would not have sent me and Jix to Byss to get that damn holocron. So you simply arrested her."

Abla frowned at her. "She knows now. And she agrees with us."

"What if she is only playing with you?"

"There is no way she can escape her destiny."

Mara raised her eyebrows knowingly. "I see. Some people follow their destiny and others have destiny thrust upon them."

"Something like that, yes," Abla explained. 

"What about Jix?"

"Mister Jixton has agreed to cooperate with us, that is, with Yana and myself. Perhaps you should follow his example. I am sure, that –" He turned around when he heard the click of the door lock behind him. A young officer peeped inside. 

"Sir, we have reached our final destination. The Grand Admiral is expecting you in two hours."

"I will be there," Abla returned coolly, then looked back at Mara and gave her a hard glance. "Think about it. I am giving you a chance here."

"Thank you," Mara answered softly, but he could see in her stance that she had no intention of seriously considering his offer. A shame. Leaving the room he closed the door again and stalked toward the nearest turbo-lift to join the captain on the bridge. 

"It's a bit tight," Jix complained as he finished buttoning up the grey uniform Abla had organized for him as disguise. Yana, who had watched him dress quite unashamed, to Jix' discomfort, gave him an appraising look and a leisured smile.

"It suits you though."

Rubbing a hand through his now short hair Jix growled softly at his image in the mirror. "I look like a jerk."

"The perfect disguise, don't you think?" she countered and rose swiftly from her seat. "Come. I believe it is time for us to go off board."

The plan was a simple one. Clad in an Imperial uniform Jix would act as Yana's escort while Abla handled all the formalities. With any luck no one would check on him all that thoroughly, if Yana was to be believed. Apparently she had another ace up her sleeve, a distraction of sorts, and the Corellian was admittedly pretty ancious to see what it was. 

They exited the cabin together and walked side by side toward one of the turbo-lifts. One of the cars stopped and the door swooshed open. Entering the lift Jix felt just a little bit nervous, but Yana seemed to be completely at ease. A few stomach-churning moments later the car stopped and spilled them out into an almost empty hangar bay. The only ship sitting on the deck was a white shuttle. Next to the lowered ramp Abla was waiting for them. Yet it was his companion who made Jix almost stop dead in his tracks.

"_He_ was on board too?" he hissed at Yana, suddenly angry at her keeping secrets. 

"Did I fail to mention that? So sorry. He agreed to help us in this little endeavor, so don't complain."

"Help us?" So that was the great diversion. Jix scowled darkly at the white-haired Sith standing at the slicer's side. What a pair those two made. And Yana fit right in with them, too. "I don't want to spoil this for you," he said out of the corner of his mouth, "but I'd rather trust a Hutt than Roj Kell." By then they had reached the shuttle and Jix forced a tight smile on his face. True to his disguise, though, he refrained from making any comment as to this unexpected meeting. He could easily see that the ancient Sith was greatly amused by his reaction. 

"Everyone here?" Abla asked and nodded to himself as answer. "Perfect. Then let's not waste any more time. We are expected, after all," he added with a smirk. 

Following the others into the shuttle Jix immediately scanned the passenger cabin for Mara's familiar face. He found her, seated next to a stormtrooper, her hands bound. She gave him a blank look, playing along with his disguise. Suppressing the urge to walk over to her Jix turned his head away and joined Yana at the front. To his great discomfort he found himself wedged in between the information broker and Kell. He tried to keep as much of a distance from the Sith as he could, and accidentially bumped into Yana, who lay a hand on his arm 

and laughed silently. 

"Don't be so nervous," she whispered in his ear. Jix almost jerked his arm away, but she was ahead of him and replaced her hand on the armrest. The Corellian wisely refrained from checking on Kell's reaction to that little incident; he could very well imagine that unnerving smile the old man always seemed to wear when someone else made a fool of himself. He _was_ a fool. Perhaps Mara would really be better off without him.

As the shuttle lifted off smoothly Mara felt anything but at ease. It did not help to know that Abla and some other agent had manipulated Yana Dar into assisting their little plan. The Empire's rebirth! Hah! Only a fool would want that order back. Roj Kell's presence on board was no less discomforting. What was _he_ doing here? He was supposed to be dead, but Talon Karrde had told them back on Garqui that the old man was actually keeping pretty busy. Apparently he was now in with Yana. 

The Grand Admiral had to be Tious Markhan. She knew the man. He was an uncompromising commander, a good strategist, but not nearly as good as either Thrawn or Skywalker. What he lacked was the ability to plan not two or three, but ten steps ahead. So each of his plans, brilliant as it might be, was subject to frequent changes or was abandoned altogether. Patience was not one of his strongest virtues. 

What was his part in the scheme? Was he ally or pawn? From what she had heard of his actions so far she suspected the latter. None of the maneuvers he had had his agents and troops perform had served to strengthen his position, rather the opposite. Yes, true, he had managed to outwit the New Republic a couple of times, but his failures at other endeavors must still be hanging heavily above his head. Karrde had explained that there was a powerstruggle going on inside the Imperial command structure, and the goal was to unseat Markhan. He was powerful, yet, but too powerful for the other commanders' comfort. Undoubtedly Abla and his friends plaiying on exactly those sentiments. 

What frightened her most, though, was the fact that they were acting on the Emperor's orders. Othana had admitted as much by revealing his rank to her. If the man had been manipulating Yana Dar all along this meant that everything that had happened so far, from the Princess' kidnapping to Markhan's failures and Irek Ismaren's suicide mission aboard the Executor, had been part of the Emperor's plan. 

The shuttle dropped into Byss' atmosphere and Mara shivered ever so slightly. There was too much darkness in this place, as if the Dark Side held the planet in its grasp and intended to keep it forever. She had never been here herself, but she had heard that Byss was where the Emperor had conducted his most secret experiments, had kept his most precious possessions. The holocron. What was in that damn holocron that Yana had wanted so much? Suddenly a powerful surge of darkness made her hairs stand on end. Hatred, outrage and agony where all mixed together in a single black vortex of emotion. It lasted for what seemed an eternity, so intense that it brought tears to her eyes. When it finally ceased she let out a ragged breath, her face ashen. 

"If you're going to be sick give me some warning in advance," the stormtrooper seated next to her joked weakly. Mara ignored him. She had a very bad feeling about this, very, very bad. 

Just then the shuttle was swallowed by the gaping maw of a hangar bay and settled down gently on the deck. The trooper unstrapped from his flight harness, helped her out of hers and propelled her toward the exit. On the way Mara met Yana's eyes and saw her own distress over that outburst mirrored in the information broker's eyes. The contact broke as the trooper shoved her ahead of him, down the landing ramp. On the deck a squad of black-clad security guards were waiting for them. She saw Abla Othana talk with them urgently. 

A few moments later he was joined by Yana and Jix. The commander of the security squad gesticulated demandingly, waving a hand in Jix' direction. Abla gave him an outraged stare. Then Roj Kell took a step closer toward the commander, his black clothes and white hair emphasizing his menacing appearance even more. He said something to the commander, who paled visibly. 

"... is perfectly all right then," Mara heard the man manage just as she had reached the small assembly. 

"Good!" Abla Othana snapped. "I will take this up with the Grand Admiral, you can count on that, my friend."

They followed the slicer toward one of the lifts, and Mara could sense that Abla was nervous. But he also felt elated, for some reason. When they had passed a few corridors and closed in on what Mara believed must be a meeting room he was perfectly bristling with anticipation. The double-doors slid open and revealed a large conference table. Seated at its head Tious Markhan smiled at them coldly. He was lounging comfortably in his chair, his blue eyes echoing his obvious amusement. And at that exact moment Abla's emotion turned from optimistic expectation to shock.

"Abla, welcome back," the Grand Admiral said softly. "And Yana Dar." He rose from his seat and came around the table to extend a hand toward the blonde woman. She took it gingerly, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "My lady, I cannot express my feelings at having you here at last. We have been awaiting your return anxiously. Please, take a seat. I would be honored if you would join me." Leading her back to the head of the table he fussed over her like any good host would.

Yet Mara could see that Yana was not really comfortable with Markhan's attention. Once he had her seated the Grand Admiral nodded at the others. "Mara Jade. Not a surprise guest, but also welcome, maybe." At last his gaze shifted upward to meet Roj Kell's pale eyes and a snarl appeared on his features. "Finally we meet."

Only then did Mara realize that Jix was not with them any longer. But at exactly that moment the door closed, sealing them in with a contingent of guards and the Grand Admiral, who reminded her more and more of a spider which had just captured a most delicious prey. 

Sitting at the head of the table Yana surveyed her troops with a frown. Abla seemed surprised, she could sense it clearly, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. He had expected Franzis Sarreti to be here with them. That he was absent now could only mean that his scheme had not worked out. Remembering the terrible pain she had sensed upon their arrival on Byss she could hazard a guess as to the man's fate. 

Mara Jade seemed ready to take action, should it become necessary. Roj Kell, as always, did not give away any of his emotions. But it was Tious Markhan who had her concerned the most. He practically reeked of satisfaction. He was on to something, that much was clear. Well, Jix had obviously heeded her orders and vanished at the most opportune moment to get the holocron. She could not leave that here with Kell, no way. It was far too precious for that. When Markhan placed something on the table top, though, a fist-sized black cube that shone like obsidian, she realized that Jix would not find the holocron after all. 

"Lord Kell, please," the Grand Admiral began almost reverentially. "I know that you were here before, albeit under less pleasant circumstances. You need not fear that my intentions toward you parallel those of your late student, though."

"Fear?" Roj Kell returned coolly, his voice clean of emotion. "Why should I fear you at all?"

"Not fear. I am well aware of your past, of the limits of your abilities and the knowledge you harbor. That knowledge is very precious to me, to everyone here."

"Yana Dar has already enlightened me on the late Emperor's supposed accomplishments."

"Excellent. Then I would ask Abla to prepare the program for a little test. Now. Sergeant, please take three of your men to escort Mister Othana."

Distraught, the slicer left the room, not without throwing Yana a last, apologetic look. When Markhan picked up the holocron she refocused her thoughts on the situation at hand. 

"Do you know what this is?" he asked the Sith, who frowned at him.

"It is a holocron, obviously."

"Yes, very true. But not just any holocron, I suspect. I am, alas, not attuned to the Force at all. Would you – ?" he asked, raising the cube toward Kell, who hesitated, before he gently took it in his palm. Yana held her breath.

The holocron came to life abruptly, and she could see that the recording was very old. There was no gatekeeper, that she had come to know the Jedi holocrons featured, but only a black square that was being projected into the room. Then, gradually, golden scripture faded onto the virtual screen. The Grand Admiral's eyes were shining with awe. "Finally," he breathed.

"What is it?" Yana asked, leaning forward curiously. 

"The Jen'da prophecies. The sole surviving copy."

She hissed through her teeth, annoyed. "You knew about those."

"Of course. Abla told me every one of your plans."

"Of course," she repeated softly. But her eyes were fixed on Roj Kell. "Is it true? Are those the Jen'da prophecies?"

His head came up and he stared at her for a heart-beat. "It is true," he answered at last. Suddenly his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And what exactly were you planning to do with those?"

Tious Markhan took it upon himself to explain: "As you know already Abla has been working on a program that would be able to imitate your thought processes, and use your memory, your knowledge. Actually the credit goes to Marten Anderland, who sadly is not here today to earn the fruits of his labor. But it was Abla who came up with a program that communicates both with the Seeker and an additional interface that can be used as interpreter. Type in a question on the interface and the Seeker will find the answer for you. Fascinating, isn't it?"

Kell gave him an appraising smile. "I see. And you would have used that same program to translate and interpret the prophecies."

"Exactly. And now we are going to test it."

Sitting in front of the screens of what had once been Marten Anderland's work station on Dubrillion and that had been geared up with new additions since, Abla Othana stared at the keyboard in front of him in dismal silence. He was acutely aware of the three security guards standing behind him, and he now had no doubts any longer that Tious Markhan had somehow found out about their plan. Franzis Sarreti's absence at the 'meeting' confirmed this suspicion. Sarreti had been the brain of this operation. He had known more of the Emperor's initial plan than both Erinin and Abla together. And he had also been the one who had suggested a few modifications to exactly that plan. Abla had seen the reason in that, had realized that the Empire Reborn could not be simply a copy of the old. The old one had failed. This time they needed to succeed. 

Raising his head tiredly he gazed at the center screen, where the Seeker was waiting for instructions. Markhan had Yana trapped tightly. Abla had no illusions about his own fate and that would leave Yana without any ally at all. He could destroy the Seeker now, could deprive Markhan of that precious tool, but what if there was still a glimmer of hope somewhere? What if Sarreti had succeeded in his mission to ensure the loyalty of the other commanders, moffs and governors? Behind him the door slid open and the soldiers snapped to rigid attention.

"At ease," Tious Markhan told them pleasantly. "Everything is prepared?"

"Yes, sir," Abla replied in a whisper. Too late. Hope was all he could set his faith in now. 

"Very good. Here is my question for you, Lord Kell. According to my sources Irek Ismaren has left the Executor, destination unknown. What will he do now and where will he go?"

"Irek?" The ancient Sith's voice was low, but it bore such heat and anger that Abla almost jumped out of his seat. 

"Ah? You seem to know that little secret after all," Markhan said in some amusement. Abla, who had heard about the old man's reaction to that particular news from Yana, almost smiled. If the Grand Admiral went on like this ...

"I have heard about the boy, yes. And I wonder why he is still alive."

"I suppose he is lucky," Abla heard Markhan suggest.

"He is a survivor," Yana added and to everyone's surprise Kell laughed out loud. 

Once his chuckles had subsided again he began in a very calm tone again: "To answer your question, Grand Admiral, the boy will try to find some answers himself, about his past. And the only one he believes can truly understand that question is his sister, Yana Dar. He will seek her out. And you, if you are smart, will not let him come here. If he gets his hands on the Seeker, on my knowledge, you will not be able to destroy him."

Obviously uncomfortable with that answer Tious Markhan leander over Abla's shoulder to peer at the screen. "Did you get all that?"

"Yes." Hitting the enter key Abla waited as the Seeker set to work. After a minute or two an answer came up on the screen. Abla stared. It was exactly what the old Sith had said, even if the words were different.

"Excellent!" Straightening with a hiss of satisfaction the Grand Admiral turned back toward his captives, for that was what they had all become. "Let's see if the program can translate and interpret the prophecies, too." He handed Abla the cube. 

The slicer examined it for somewhere to plug in the interface and finally found something. Once he was finished with rigging the holocron on to the workstation he turned his head to gaze at Markhan. "Someone has to activate it," he explained.

Roj Kell stepped forward without hesitation and Abla was the only one who saw the malevolent smile on the old man's lips. It made his heart beat faster with hope. Reaching over Abla's shoulder Kell touched the holocron gently and his smile turned into a sneer. "The living dead shall resurrect the glories of the past to rekindle the flame of life and reclaim what was once lost," he said softly under his breath, and the holocron came to life. The screen in front of them remained blank, though. 

"Oh," Yana commented somewhat drily, unable to hide her satisfaction. "It seems to be broken."

Roj Kell threw her an amused glance. Looking at him in some bewilderment Markhan gazed first at Yana, then at the Sith. "What? What is it?"

The ancient Sith shook his head slowly. "Nothing. But her assumption is not quite correct, I believe. The program works perfectly, in fact, I am genuinely impressed. Well done, Mister Othana."

Abla could not help himself. He beamed at the old man's praise proudly. "Thank you. And why does the screen remain mute?"

"Ah." Roj Kell made an expansive gesture, that seemed part apology and part beginning of a lecture. "The Jen'da prophecies were always a myth. This compilation was created millennia ago, by the Jen'da sect, that would later evolve into the Jedi Order as we know it today. No one knew what the prophecies contained, not even Palpatine." He smiled. "I do. They are, if one might say so, a philosophical debate, a collection of the Jen'da sect's esoteric findings. In short, my friends, they are rubbish. Of no value whatsoever, not to you, not to anyone. No wonder that the Seeker does not respond. It undoubtedly shares my contempt for these foolish thoughts." He gave a delighted laugh. "So much effort for nothing. My, my, that should teach you not to try and use knowledge that is not yours." Suddenly he whirled around to face Tious Markhan, prompting the Grand Admiral to take a step back, and the guards to go for their weapons. "So you think you know the limits of my power?" he hissed, his words freezing everyone where they stood or sat. "You think you can play your games with me where even Palpatine failed in the end?"

"Now, now, let's stay civilized," Tious Markhan tried, but his voice was shaking.

"Civilized? If you were aiming at civilized you should never have messed with me," Kell spat. 

"I cannot abide civilization. And now, my dear Grand Admiral, I believe it is time for you to die."

"I must admit that I am not happy with what has happened at Bilbringi," Mon Mothma was just saying. "If I did not know better I might even suspect Admiral Piett of treason." She sighed deeply. "But I know he is an honest man and he is loyal. Your suggestion, though, Lord Skywalker, is disturbing."

"In what way? You do not want to be painted a tyrant, do you? You cannot forbid them to form this confederation. You can, of course, point out that the Alliance was the key to their independence, but what then?"

"It might put them under pressure for a time, but I am confident that in the end their resentment will fade. We are trying very hard to become a democracy," she added with a smile. "And I do not want our effort to have been for nothing." The President turned serious once more. "But this in itself is not what disturbs me. rather your view on politics. Do you truly believe that, if there are more independent realms, they will watch each other? They will, I am sure, but only to make certain that their own interests are met. On the other hand I do understand your concern with administration. Perhaps you are right there, in a sense. But Palpatine also gave his governors many liberties, and look what that brought the people. Nothing. So I still believe a central government might do the trick."

"If that government were closer to home it might have more of an impact, though. Look at the Hutts. They control their sector fully. Look at the Chiss."

"Funny that you mentioned those two," Mon Mothma said drily. "They are the ones that are not somehow entangled in our political fight with the Empire."

Anakin smiled at her. "That is exactly my point. They are centered on their own interests. But they do have entanglements with either us or the Empire."

"Not purely political ones, I agree."

"That is because they have seasoned, matured governments. Right now people aren't sure what to expect of the New Republic, and the Empire has also proven to be somewhat unpredictable."

"The addition of the so-called Confederate Zone would create even more turmoil."

"You have a point," the Dark Lord admitted. He hesitated then. There was something he had been thinking about, a daring plan, one that might prove brilliant or very dangerous indeed. And it would only work out if the powers spread across the galaxy were close to equal. 

"Lord Skywalker, I can see that you have something more to say," the President told him gently. "What is it?"

"A vision I had. It is unthinkable, perhaps, and could turn out to be very dangerous. It would require strong leadership and a functioning system of guardians. You see, the problem with laws and regulations is that they can be bent and broken." Folding his hands on top of the table in front of him Anakin Skywalker smiled wrily. "I have been a warrior almost all of my life, Mon Mothma. In the beginning I could feel a righteous fire that fueled my actions, my plan, but now all I crave is some peace. I know I will miss the wild days, the schemes, but I have known little else since I first experienced the effects and dangers of political maneuvering back when the Trade Federation blockaded Naboo to protest the taxation of trade routes."

"So?"

"In the Old Republic some planets had more influence than others, more weight in the Senate. Each sector strove for more wealth, more power, and achieved this at the expenses of less fortunate worlds. Now, we have the New Republic and the Empire vying for the position as sole power in this galaxy. You are automatically forced to consider the interests of such worlds as Ryloth or Honoghr to gain a diplomatic edge over Tious Markhan. Is that not so?"

"You mean, if we had more realms, which are equally powerful, each would try to gain the advantage and therefore pay closer heed to the needs of its people."

"Yes. And imagine the polictical and diplomatic schemes that would be going on at the upper levels of the government! Everyone would keep so close an eye on the other that their intrigues would never come to fruition."

Mon Mothma laughed out loud. "I see you point. Very clever. But Palpatine used political machinations to achieve his goal too."

"True," Anakin said with a nod. "But first, Palpatine was not just any politician, and second, I believe not everyone would have fallen for his promises. Of course one faction might convince the other that working with them, surrendering privileges to them, would be to their mutual benefit. This is why I suggest we establish a common council that keeps track of all schemes that are going on, where complaints might be filed."

"An independent council with representatives from every government? It seems reminiscent of the Jedi Council."

"Again, I agree. This one will be different, though. Closer, so to speak, to the heart-beat of the galaxy."

Mon Mothma gave him a long, appraising look. "You are right," she said at last. "It sounds impossible. But it might just work. I suggest we call a convention once the situation within the Empire is resolved and the invaders have been driven back."

"Then you are giving me leave to offer assistance to the Chiss?" Anakin asked hopefully. This was far more than he had expected. Mon Mothma frowned. 

"I will not give you command over our forces," she said. "But I have given you the task to protect the New Republic from beyond our borders. And I do recall that Grand Admiral Thrawn expressed his willingness to grant you a command with his own troops, if you ever got bored of office duty in the New Republic government." She smiled at his expression. "Don't fret, Lord Sykwalker. I am sure, if Yana Dar's plan succeeds her first action will be to grant the Chiss her aid."

"If," Anakin pointed out. 

"Yes, indeed. But what yo have revealed to me concerning Roj Kell's plan makes me confident that it would not be in his interests to see Tious Markhan rule the Empire. And Yana herself has been well tested by her father, which, I believe, will protect her against any attempt on Kell's part to manipulate her." 

The Dark Lord frowned. "I very much hope that you are right about that." 

Han Solo was very happy to be back on Coruscant with his betrothed, even though she was busy most of the time. But at least they were on the same planet, he thought with a smirk as he trotted down a corridor that led toward one of the landing pads of the Imperial Palace. Leia had asked him to meet her there to receive her mother, who had announced her return from Ryloth and should be arriving in the next few minutes. Rounding a corner he stepped out onto the pad and found Leia standing just outside of the door.

"Han!" she called out and hugged him fiercely. Then she placed a very tender kiss on his mouth, embarrassing Han no end, since he had just noticed that her father was also present. The Dark Lord was eyeing him calmly, but the Corellian thought he saw a hint of disapproval in those icy blue eyes. He disengaged from Leia with a murmured apology, but, even though he was slightly flustered, still kept an arm around her waist in defiance. 

"So, when are they due?" he asked to cover his insecurity around the former Sith. The older man shaded his eyes with his hand and pointed upward.

"Here they come," Anakin Skywalker announced. "And not a moment too soon," he added grimly and Leia responded with a firm nod of her own. Han wondered what was going on. 

"Leia?" he asked softly, "is something wrong?"

"Perhaps," she whispered back. "With everything that has happened in the past few days on Byss Father has come to some unfortunate conclusions."

"But your mother was on Ryloth all the time, so there's no need to worry," Han reasoned. And then the roar of the landing ship drowned out all other noise. Once the small yacht had settled down on the landing pad Anakin stepped forward, Leia right at his heels. Following, Han took the Princess' hand gingerly. She squeezed his palm hard and turned her head with an affectionate smile. 

"Wait and see," she advised him and laughed at his expression.

"I knew you'd say that," he claimed, his tone somewhat accusing. "Your father is having a bad influence on you."

"How do you know I didn't get that from my mother?" Leia teased him and Han simply shrugged, a lop-sided grin appearing on his face.

"Hey, this is me. I would never think anything bad of her." Leia laughed again, but said nothing as she turned back toward the ship. 

Anakin Skywalker stood close to the exit hatch of the ship, which opened with a loud hiss of released pressure. The first down the ramp was Padmé Naberrie, naturally. She flung herself into her husband's arms with a joyous smile, not very befitting of her age, as Han thought. The Dark Lord hugged her close for long moments, her feet dangling, before he set her back down on the floor. By then Han and Leia had reached the reunited couple and the Princess went forward to embrace her mother, whom she had not seen since she had left for that unfortunate trip to Corellia. The two women immediately fell into a hushed conversation that clearly excluded everyone else present. So Han joined his future father-in-law in watching the ship's entrance. Another woman stepped from the ship, Padmé's secretary, Han thought, and then a Twi'lek male followed. 

"Cesh Kendar!" Anakin exclaimed and clasped the alien's hand in a hard grip. "It is very good to have you back alive."

"Thank you, your lordship," Kendar replied, relief plain in his tone. "I am very happy myself too."

"Good!" the Dark Lord replied heartily, but his laughter was cut off short when a gray-skinned, short alien exited the ship and walked down the ramp toward them. At first glance Han though the Noghri warrior might be Chi'in, but there was something in his stance that was very different from the Sith. He seemed anxious, for some reason, something Chi'in would never show.

"Andarack clan Rim'kai," Anakin greeted the newcomer, and his voice was very cold. 

When the red blade of his lightsaber came awake with a loud snap-hiss all of a sudden 

the Corellian jumped involuntarily, and utter silence fell over the assembly as the Dark Lord confronted the Noghri. 

"Anakin," Padmé began sharply, but her daughter lay a cautioning hand on her shoulder. The two women shared a troubled glance. 

"Tell me, Andarack," Anakin began, "when did you forsake the ideals of your people for lies and dishonesty?"

The Noghri bowed deeply. "My lord, I am not aware of what you might mean by that." He did not seem to be fazed at all by the fact that the lightsaber blade hovered just inches from his face. 

"Very droll. You let me do all the thinking, didn't you. A deal with Chi'in? At first I was shocked by that, I admit, but it seemed plausible that he would want his people to enjoy the protection of the Empire, even if it came at a price. My ties to Chi'in and the Noghri were very convenient for you, am I right? I would never question Chi'in's decisions. I trust him too much for that. But now I know about Sarreti's plot. And Sarreti worked against Markhan all the time. Markhan wanted to discredit me by making me rush ahead and force an attack on Nal Hutta. But you, Andarack, you led me straight to the Grand Admiral's brilliant little game. You gave me all the clues that allowed me to unravel his scheme. Did Sarreti order you to stay with me?"

Andarack kept silent fo a long time. In the end he dropped to his knees, face pressed against the floor and arms spread out at his sides. "If you doubt my sincerity I submit myself to your judgement."

"Is that a confession?" Anakin asked softly and Han held his breath, just like the others around him. But Andarack did not answer. The Dark Lord took a deep breath. "The last Sith warrior who submitted himself to judgement was tried and executed by the New Republic. Get up." The Noghri rose again. "You did not train with the Council on Korriban," Anakin continued. "Who taught you? Palpatine? Germyne?"

"I taught myself," the Noghri replied, his black eyes expressionless. "I was a child when my great-uncle was taken away to Korriban by Germyne Urian. But I had watched them train when they had still been on Honoghr. Two years ago General Zi'Assime came to Honoghr and with him came a man named Franzis Sarreti. He asked after Chi'in clan Rim'kai. He found me instead," Andarack explained.

"All right," Skywalker sighed and deactivated the lightsaber. "And I am very impressed by your skills at mind projection and persuasion. I never would have known your intentions had I not been made aware of Sarreti's scheme. But what to do with you now?"

"Anakin, if I may." Han moved aside to let Padmé pass, but he kept his eyes fixed on Andarack. "Anakin," she said, "he protected me well, and he is sincere in his wish to free his people. Regardless to his methods, he is not a bad person."

"Regardless to his methods?" the Dark Lord repeated with a smile and kissed her forehead tenderly. "I am glad you have changed your mind about that."

For some reason Padmé blushed, but then she extended a hand toward Andarack. The Noghri took it gingerly. "I believe we can come to a mutual understanding. The situation on Ryloth is not yet resolved and neither is the fate of the Noghri certain. But I have a plan, and I believe it could make the difference here."

TBC


	18. Chapter 17 - Knowledge

Chapter 17 – Knowledge

Belana Jen stared down at the Grand Admiral's corpse, her mind aflame with shock and outrage. She had not expected this. When Kell had claimed that Markhan would not come to enjoy his company she had assumed he would deal with him the same way he had dealt with Thrawn. But apparently he was losing his usual reluctance to kill without being provoked first. In addition to what had happened over the past weeks she believed that this confirmed what a fine line he was walking here, a very dangerous one. 

"Why did you do that?" Yana Dar asked at last, once she had recovered from having witnessed the carnage that had cost Markhan and his guards their lives. She was very pale and at her side Mara Jade seemed about to sick up. Abla Othana, still seated at the computer screens, was deadly pale and wide-eyed. But Yana, truly her father's daughter, regained her composure fast and stalked over to where Kell was looking pensively at the body lying at his feet. "Why?" Yana demanded.

He turned his head ever so slightly, not quite meeting her eye. "This is what your future allies expect of you, Yana. To act without hesitation and mercy. They will not dare oppose you now, and the transition of power will come faster than if you had had to outmaneuver Markhan in secret."

"But _you_ killed him, not I," she objected.

"Does it matter?" He gave her a mocking bow. "After all, I am at your service, my lady."

"What?" Taking a step back Yana gazed at him in bewilderment.

"Until this little affair is resolved I offer my advice to you. Perhaps you will make better use of it than your father did."

"Father?" Mara Jade inquired, her emerald eyes narrowing. "Wait a minute. What father?" She stared first at Yana, then at Kell. "You are Palpatine's daughter?" she finally asked, seeking Yana's blue gaze once more. The older woman nodded solemnly. "Oh, great!" the former Emperor's Hand exclaimed, disgusted. "You really have everything pegged down neatly, don't you, your lordship?" she continued. "Yana does not have the hundredst part of her father's potential, not the thousandst. So she will be easy to control. Is that not so?"

Belana was not the only one who shifted her attention back to the tall Sith standing amidst blood and gore. She shivered ever so slightly, haunted by memories. In front of her inner eye she could see him standing on a battle-field again, his presence burning with the aftermath of the killing, his enemies slaughtered and their remains scattered around him. He had never been a warrior in the same sense that she herself had been a warrior. His ideals were much different. To him there was no mercy toward an enemy. But then, it was very hard to become his enemy in the first place. Tious Markhan had apparently managed in record time. 

Finally he deigned to answer, and to her surprise there was no mockery in his tone, only calm. "I have no desire to rule this Empire, or any other realm," he began, "My only goal is to reclaim what once permeated this entire galaxy." His face twisted in a sneer all of a sudden.

"Not peace, or harmony, but balance. Yana is one of a new generation of leaders, aware of the past and eager to begin anew. They are pioneers in more ways than politics and warfare. They have all learned from their forebears and they are willing to put that knowledge to use, unafraid of failure." A smile appeared on his lips. "A very long time ago I stood at that same crossroads, and although I chose the right path I made a great many mistakes down the road. I have learned from them. Just as you have learned from yours." Turning his head again he looked straight at Belana, who was facing him quietly, invisible to the others present. "Over more than three thousand years I have studied this galaxy. Three thousand years of acquiring knowledge and understanding, of following every strand of this infinitely complex web we call the Force. Over the past few years, though, I have moved beyond this complexity and found that it is, in fact, based on very simple principles. I will act on them." His face darkened once more. "It is up to you to make a difference now."

"Time remaining until re-entry is five minutes," Commander Sujar announced with a glance at the navigation controls. 

"Very good." Seated again in the command chair of the Executor's bridge Grand Admiral Thrawn was staring straight ahead, at the forward screen, where very soon the image of Nirauan would appear. At least that was what they all hoped. "Red alert for the entire crew. Keep the TIE fighters ready for launch. Our weapons status?"

"90 percent. Shields hundred percent."

"Excellent. You will establish a comm channel to the base as soon as we are within reach."

"Yes, sir."

Making himself relax a fraction Thrawn could not shed the frown that marred his forehead. They had tried hailing Nirauan from hyperspace, but had received no response. With the way things had been when the Executor had left the system that could mean that the base had been destroyed. It could, of course, also mean that someone had cut all comm channels to the base on purpose. But for what reason he did not know. Yet. 

"Prepare for re-entry," Sujar announced calmly and a few moments later the Super Star Destroyer slowed, and with a barely perceptible lurch entered realspace once more. What greeted them at first sight was chaos. Space around Nirauan was littered with mines and narrow corridors led to the various jump-points. Two Star Destroyers were visible hovering above Nirauan and Thrawn assumed that four more were spread around the globe. Sentinels. As he studied the layout of Nirauan's defenses more closely the Grand Admiral smiled. Apparently Captain Palleon had made the most of his assets. 

"Sir, the Chimaera is hailing us."

"Then put the Captain on, please."

Almost instantly the familiar voice of Gilead Palleon boomed over the bridge speakers. "Welcome back!"

There was relieved laughter all around, a reminder of how fresh each officer was to his post on the bridge. They needed to learn discipline fast. "Captain, please report," Thrawn answered smoothly, ignoring the embarrassed silence that spread over the crew all of a sudden. 

"We have lost the perimeter defense posts to the enemy. I assume they were hit first, before the enemy fleet came to Nirauan. Master Chi'in has gone missing in action on a recon mission to the outposts, and Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin are assisting Syndic Ech'an'dana's fleet as scouts. My latest information is that they will accompany Commander Al'than'erudo on a scout mission into the Lieman Corridor, where Ech'an'dana believes the attackers to be hiding."

"Syndic Ech'an'dana is in command of the Shooting Star, then?"

"Yes, sir. Syndic Bal'maw'narda requests you to get into contact with him immediately upon your arrival at the base."

That was indeed news. Not that the Chiss had reacted to the invasion, but that Bal'maw'narda was willing to confer with an outcast, a traitor. Perhaps they had at last realized that all of his work within and without the Empire had had the sole goal of securing his people's future. It took him some time to digest this, but then he asked:  


"What about Admiral Parck? Any news from him?"

"None, sir. His ship does not answer our hailings at all."

"That is because the comm channels are jammed," Thrawn explained. "Nothing gets out or into Nirauan. But I am pleased to hear that communication with Almashin is still possible."

"Jammed?" 

"Yes. I have received a report from Lord Skywalker that contained interesting information on the Empire. With any luck there will be a change of command soon. Admiral Parck was to assist in bringing that change about."

"So, if he has failed we will not know at all," Palleon mused aloud.

"Yes." Clicking his teeth together Thrawn gazed into the distance. "Grave news all around. I see you have secured the base as ordered. Excellent work, Captain. But I fear the Executor is too large to fit through any of these corridors."

"If you would take a shuttle down I will send an escort up to guide you in."

"Yes. I think I will do that. But first I want you to provide the Executor herself with an escort."

"Of course. I will inform you once everything is prepared."

"Yes. Thank you." Disconnecting the call Thrawn rose and nodded at his second. "Commander, a word with you." They walked a bit further down the bridge, out of the crew's earshot. "You understand why I ordered the escort for this ship?"

"Yes, sir," Sujar answered calmly. "You do not trust my command in case of a surprise attack. Therefore the ship needs extra protection during your absence."

"Very good. And can you also tell me why I gave that order myself?"

"To show the crew that you do indeed believe we need a babysitter?"

Thrawn smiled thinly. "Well done, Commander. Under different circumstances I would welcome the chance to train a new command crew, but not at a time like this. Therefore you will all be relocated to other ships to train there with the bridge crews. You, Commander, will stay here, with me, but not as my second."

Sujar nodded at him, his eyes never leaving those of the Grand Admiral. "I appreciate that chance, Grand Admiral, and I will do my best to learn fast."

"Thank you. That would be all for now."

Standing to attention like the rest of his team Captain Palleon was fairly beaming as the Grand Admiral's shuttle touched down. The Chiss stalked down the landing ramp swiftly, his white uniform gleaming in the artificial lights of the hangar. He gave the Captain a curt nod before he strode deeper into the fortress, with Palleon hurrying to catch up with him. 

"Captain, I need a new bridge crew. You will file a report with suitable personnel within the hour. Only experienced officers."

As if they had any other out here. "Of course."

"Excellent. Should Admiral Parck return against all expectations I shall reprimand him severely for leaving the base without a commander. Do not get me wrong, Captain, I am very pleased with the work you have done here, but in case of a renewed attack you would have been burdened with coordinating both your fleet and the ground defenses."

"With permission, sir, he thought it best to secure the Empire's support in our struggle."

"And he was a fool for assuming that they would help at all. The risk was far too great. He talked to me about his misgivings about our survival in the future and made the same suggestion to me."

"I know. He told us."

"All of you agreed? Even Master Chi'in?" Thrawn asked coolly as he stepped into the communications center.

"Chi'in did also approve."

"Maybe I was assuming too much. It could well be that Master Chi'in's recent visit on Almashin had the sole purpose of drawing the Syndics' attention to Nirauan. Which would explain Ech'an'dana's swift response."

Palleon nodded his agreement. It sounded right, somehow. But Voss Parck had not mentioned that reason during that last meeting with him, before he had left for Byss. which meant that he would probably still be reprimanded. All credit went to the Noghri. Again he felt regret for having lost that asset, and he hoped that Skywalker and Sarin would find the Sith Lord again. 

"Chi'in will not reveal anything about our defenses to our enemies," Thrawn said suddenly, anticipating the Captain's thoughts with ease. Looking up into the Grand Admiral's glowing eyes Palleon smiled.

"No. you are right. I rather expect he is just now trying to gather intelligence to get back to us." Noticing the expectant and mildly disapproving look on Thrawn's face he realized that they had reached the hypercomm unit. "I will leave you to your meeting with Syndic Bal'maw'narda and prepare my report," he murmured and turned around to retreat from the room once more. If the Council on Almashin really was serious about cooperating with Thrawn, perhaps granting him sole command of the entire Chiss forces, those invaders would soon be history. Smiling to himself in satisfaction the Captain quickened his pace ever so slightly. Things really did look better now that the Grand Admiral was back. 

It was called the Embrace of Pain and it really did deserve that title. As Fahl Dan had explained to him it was an instrument of reverence, of prayer. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior had indulged his prisoner freely when Chi'in had asked what glory the Yuuzhan Vong sought in the Unknown Regions, and now, with his body locked tight in what had to be incredible pain by any standard, the Noghri had found the clear focus to meditate on the meaning of faith. He knew what he did believe in, the power of life, the values of simplicity and truth. There was no need to examine his feelings on that subject further. Yet he found the belief the Yuuzhan Vong followed intriguing. 

Fahl Dan had described to him how the gods had created the universe by sacrificing parts of themselves. They had endured great agony to give birth to the world, or so the story went, and therefore pain and sacrifice were the means to enlightenment. A savage belief. And yet Chi'in could not understand what exactly that belief had to do with the Yuuzhan Vong's coming here. To teach the so-called infidels the mysteries of their gods? No. Fahl Dan had already revealed the true reason. The one that was inherent of all conquerors. Glory and power. 

In a state of utter concentration that transcended every physical border Chi'in felt strangely disappointed at the fact that their motives were so mundane. He had faced the Dark Side, which seemed reminiscent in some ways of what the Yuuzhan Vong believed in, a fervent order too, but he knew in his heart that this darkness was a hollow power. It always demanded more. Greater pain, greater sacrifices. Fahl Dan had told him that no Yuuzhan Vong was afraid to die, that death was seen as the release from all suffering in life. Which was very true, if life were defined by the standards of the Yuuzhan Vong. 

"You must truly have achieved enlightenment." Fahl Dan's voice held a touch of awe and only now did the Noghri realize that he was smiling. The revelation brought him quickly out of his trance and he gave a soft groan as the pain slammed back into his awareness again. He was lying on the deck of what he now knew was a ship, Looking up at the warrior looming over him he frowned. 

"Enlightenment? I found nothing that I did not know beforehand."

"Our war coordinator is awaiting your arrival eagerly. He is intrigued by your resistance to our every effort at gaining information from you."

It was, perhaps, meant as praise, but Chi'in did not feel pride in what Fahl Dan obviously saw as a great accomplisment. In fact, the respect he could see in the warrior's eyes was sickening him. He did not understand what could possibly make a people hold a belief such as this one, and still survive. Were they producing their off-spring only in regards of increasing the sacrifices for their gods? And if they did judge themselves by the standards of said gods, why did they not realize that what the gods had sacrificed themselves for was life, not death? This was a riddle far beyond his abilities to solve at the moment, Chi'in knew. He lacked the right information. But that could be changed easily.

Sitting up he folded his hands in his lap in meditation, seeking again the calm focus of his mind, just for a moment, to gather his strength again. Finally he rose to his feet unsteadily and nodded at Fahl Dan. "I will meet with your war coordinator and he will learn the truth from me."

The Yuuzhan Vong stared at him in what the Noghri thought was disbelief. "You will surrender?"

Meeting the warrior's gaze Chi'in considered explaining to his opponent that he intended to tell this war coordinator the truth about having faith in darkness. Yet then he realized that the other would not understand. He shook his head ever so slightly, but said nothing; being aware of something was not the same as accepting or rejecting it. It all depended on one's point of view, but when all was said and done everything became a matter of survival. He smiled at the irony of his situation, that had led him to share the views of someone he perceived as incredible self-righteous and ignorant. An yet, there was a grain of truth to the ancient Sith Lord's philosophy. No matter what people did believe in, they were always and forever bound by the rules of survival, whether this meant them as individual, or their entire race. 

The Chiss Stealth Cruiser Mahsenda dropped out of hyperspace with her sister ships just a few clicks away, spread out in a loose, wide circle. They had spent the past days on their voyage back into the Lieman Corridor, a recon mission under the command of Al'than'erudo. Standing next to the Chiss on the ship's bridge Luke gazed out at the blue planet before them.

"Kynda'bey," Commander Al'than'erudo breathed. "Our first target." Turning his head toward Luke he gave the young Jedi a cold smile. "You have done well in the simulations, Master Skywalker. Did you enjoy flying the scout craft?"

"They are certainly full of surprises."

A soft laugh drew his attention to the woman standing next to him. Nuron had regained her good humor again after Al'than'erudo had officially apologized to her for the hostile welcome he had given her back aboard the Shooting Star. "They are magnificent!" she exclaimed and threw the Chiss a wide grin. She had beaten both Luke and the commander several times during the sim runs, her piloting much more reckless than even Luke's. 

"That they are," Al'than'erudo agreed. "Our vanguard has tracked the attackers into this sector. Therefore we will have to be very careful. The two of you will be flying under my direct command. We have two hours before the ship-wide launch."

"Thank you, Commander. We will be ready," Nuron told him, then hooked her arm around Luke's elbow and drew him off the bridge. 

"Why are you suddenly so friendly with him?" Luke asked, feeling just a little bit angry and a little bit foolish. She gave him a long look. Then she said:

"He is an adept commander and now that he has admitted his error concerning my abilities there is no reason for slighting him."

"Yes, sure, but – don't you think it strange that – " 

"Luke," she interrupted him gently, "we have been through this before, remember? Right after the meeting with Syndic Ech'an'dana. You have no reason to be jealous. I love only you. Don't you believe me?" Now she sounded outraged and Luke hastily moved to ease her mind.

"Of course I believe you! It is just that he is trying too hard to make this up to you."

"And you think I am not worth it?" she challenged him quietly.

"What? Of course you are worth it!"

The sudden smile that appeared on her lips was warm and gentle and she reached up to caress his face tenderly. "Sometimes a woman does enjoy being the focus of male attention. Forgive me if I am giving you reason to worry."

He understood abruptly. On Korriban Nuron had been a warrior, she had been living only for the Sith order. But then she had met Luke and had fallen in love with him. His affection was something new, different from the friendship she shared with Chi'in. Now she was learning that she was not only a warrior, but also a woman. For some reason Luke felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. She always managed to put him off guard, and in a way he loved exactly that. In the deepest depth of his heart he knew that her love was true, and that he had no right to doubt her committment to him. And yet she seemed to have acquired a taste for playing with him, making him feel uncertain. At that moment he wondered hard whether Han made as much trouble for Leia.

Having just finished her report on what they had found on Ryloth Padmé gazed at the others expectantly. Leia was seated across from her, with Telmann Page at her side, and the two of them shared a troubled glance with Mon Mothma, who presided over the meeting. 

"The question is what to do with this," Anakin, who had taken his place next to his wife, said at last. "Cesh, what do you think will happen if we make this public? I mean, what will happen on Ryloth?"

The Twi'lek agent shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. I don' think the Empire will encourage anyone in taking too great an interest. They will keep their heads low."

"I thought so."

"On the other hand," Mon Mothma injected, "we can prove that the Empire is not true to its claim. They will have to respond in any case. If Tious Markhan is still in power my best guess is that he will attack us, to save his face. If Yana is in charge ... I am not certain. She might just tell us to go ahead and resolve this problem, abandoning Commander Antham altogether."

"Which might result in even bigger trouble for Ryloth," Telmann Page finished for her. "I don't know this Antham, but he could decide that he has nothing left to lose if the Empire turns its back on him and his troops."

"The question rather is, can we intercede at all?" Leia spoke quietly, her hands folded in front of her. She met the disbelieving glances of the assembly calmly. "You see, if we assume the role of Ryloth's savior we will certainly win sympathies, and we will be expected to do more. Maybe more than we can do. If we attack Antham and liberate Ryloth by force there is no telling where we might end. We might find ourselves fighting exactly the war we have been trying to avoid so far."

"What do you propose instead?" Mon Mothma asked. 

"Mother, of all of us you have perhaps the greatest insight into the current state of affairs on Ryloth. What do you suggest?"

Padmé heaved a deep sigh and sought reassurance with her husband, who gave her an encouraging smile and a nod. Then she said: "Perhaps we should, just this one time, have faith in Lord Kell's plan."

"What!" Half-rising from his seat Page glared at her. "You can't be serious!"

"I am. Think about it. The Twi'lek have every opportunity now to stand up to their oppressors. If Yana abandons Antham the Twi'lek can put pressure on him. Contrary to you, General, I have met the man. He is following orders, just that. If he does not receive any other order he will retreat, to gain new ones. In fact, Tious Markhan has provided us with the perfect psychological weapon. The example he made of General Zi'Assime on Yaga Minor has certainly convinced any Imperial commander that independent action will not be rewarded."

Her daughter gave a delighted laugh. "You are right!" Suddenly her mirth subsided again. "What if Markhan is in command and orders an all-out attack?"

"Then he will certainly have more important targets for Commander Antham than Ryloth. Besides, the ensuing turmoil would be another opportunity for the Twi'lek to overcome the troopers."

"Brilliant," Mon Mothma conceded with a smile, that made Padmé beam with pride. It felt so very good to be back in business again, to finally be doing something that was also having effects. But her husband did not seem to share the overall view.

"That is all very well, but you are forgetting one thing: we are aware of the facts. The Twi'lek are not."

Padmé gave him a wide-eyed glance. "What should we do then?" she asked, angry at herself for not having considered this problem beforehand. 

"I believe we should take up Joral on his offer. Establish a base there, infiltrate Ryloth again and inform what rebels there may still be. Cesh, are you up to it?"

The Twi'lek gave him a sick smile. "I guess I owe it to my people."

"You won't be alone. Since Padmé has been to Ryloth she should also be the one to contact Joral." He noticed her face twisting in disgust and smiled. "Forgive me, my love, but you are the best we can afford right now. And you won't be alone. Han will accompany you."

"Why Han?" Leia asked suspiciously. 

"Because, while Padmé confers with the more illustre elite of Nal Hutta, he can talk to the less illustre members. I have a message I need delivered, and Han qualifies perfectly for that job."

"A message? What message?" the President demanded, but the Dark Lord ignored her. 

He was looking straight at Padmé, and she suddenly thought back on what she had discussed both with him and Leia just yesterday. Her plan. But why did it have to be her who did all the dirty work? The answer was simple: because Anakin could not risk another breach of Mon Mothma's authority. After all, the President had made it clear that she wanted him to be at his best behavior until this mess was resolved somehow. In her last meeting with him, also yesterday, Mothma had insisted that he not keep any secrets from her, a promise he had broken already by withholding the truth about Andarack's allegiances. 

"I believe it is worth a try," Padmé said at last, her eyes still locked with Anakin's. Finally she tore her gaze away to smile at her daughter. "I will take good care of Han, do not worry."

"Nal Hutta? Is she mad?" 

Leia patted the Corellian's chest affectionately and raised her eyebrows. "I thought you would never think anything bad of my mother."

"I don't! But going to see the Hutt ... I just don't think it's the smart thing to do."

"Perhaps it isn't smart, but Father believes it is right."

Han shrugged and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "You know, I am just wondering why he wants to get rid of me so fast after I spent weeks running around half the galaxy to get you back. It isn't fair."

"But you are the one with the connections we need," Leia reasoned. "You are going to meet with Karrde and –"

"Boba Fett, yeah. Great," Han huffed indignantly. "As if your father's word would not have more weight of authority with the bounty-hunters."

"He can't leave for Nal Hutta now, in case Thrawn calls upon us for assistance. Besides, the plan is to confront everyone with hard facts. Therefore we need to have this operation in place by the time we hold the convention Mon Mothma is planning."

He threw his hands up in disgust. "You know, what I really don't like about your father is that he cannot just let destiny run its way. He always has to arrange matters beforehand." He noticed the amused smile on Leia's lips and hurriedly corrected hismelf, sweat beading his brow. "I mean – er – not that he had anything to do with you and me, that surely _was_ destiny."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Han, I understand your resentment, but both of us have a duty to fulfil. I am Minister of State to the New Republic, and you are now officially on the NRI's payroll." 

He winced at that. When Page had told him that he would not be allowed to accompany the Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs to Nal Hutta without official standing Han had almost backed out of his promise to go with Padmé. He did not like being part of any offical thing, it was just that he felt restricted by all those titles and regulations that came with the package. 

"Yeah, sure, but it is not as if we –"

She placed a finger on his lips, the smile still in place, but he understood the warning and kept silent. The mission to Nal Hutta was a double-edged sword, with an official and unofficial part to it. Officially Padmé would try to convince Joral to help them infiltrate Ryloth again, but inofficially she would discuss a very different deal with the Hutt. One she needed Han's assistance for. The Dark Lord had plans for the future and one aspect of them was an independent council of members of all different governments, that would keep watch over everyone. Han had first sneered at the idea and asked how the council could ever be taken seriously, without any power at all. They could just sit pretty on Coruscant while everyone ignored their advice. But he had forgotten about his future father-in-law's shrewdness in terms of warfare. Knowledge and information were the means to true control, he had told Han, and for exactly that they needed Karrde, and the bounty-hunters. And Leia was going to Bilbringi to prepare the convention along with Piett, a convention that would change the galaxy forever, if it ever came to be. 

Abla entered the tiny cell timidly, fearing what might await him there. The man looking at him out of swollen eyes gave him a long, hard look. He did not make any move, just watched the agent walk toward him. When Abla stopped two steps away both kept silent for a while. He could see that the other was hurting, the pain in his eyes was undisguised, even though his stony expression did betray nothing. What Markhan had had done to him to get him to tell him anything Abla did not even want to know.

"You are back," Franzis Sarreti said at last, his voice hoarse. "That means that you have succeeded; or else that you have betrayed the plan."

"I did not betray anything."

The lieutenant exhaled in relief, but his eyes never changed. "Well," he began, "I cannot say the same of myself." Averting his gaze he seemed very pensive. "I betrayed your trust."

Abla cautiously lay a hand on the other's shoulder. "It doesn't matter," he explained. "It is over now."

Raising his head ever so slightly Sarreti let out a soft laugh, and his smile cracked the blood that had dried on his face, making it look as if he were wearing a mask of sorts. "No, my friend. It has only just begun."

Abla grinned down at the man, sharing his joy. Over the past years Sarreti had taken the highest risks of the three of them to turn this plan into a success. To him their victory must be even more elating than what Abla felt. "Come," he told him heartily. "Let's get you out of here."

"I'll need some assistance," Sarreti explained slowly. Clasping his hand Abla carefully helped him rise, but he could sense the other wince at every move he made. "Wait," the injured man panted, his forehead suddenly glistening with sweat. 

"You are in no shape to walk. I'll get some medics," the slicer stated with a frown. "Will you be okay on your own for a while longer?"

"Certainly," the lieutenant assured him as he sank back on his bunk gratefully. "There was a message I was expecting..." he trailed off when he saw Abla's expression.

"From the Hutt?" So Joral had been in with Sarreti all along. Clenching his right hand into a fist the slicer scolded himself for never having seen through that game before. He understood, of course, that Sarreti had not wanted him to know too much, out of precaution, but his ignorance might have cost them, had Abla decided that ending Joral's interference would have benefitted them more. "There was a message, yes. But you had better ask our Sith Lord about it. He can give you all the details."

"He came from Ryloth, didn't he?"

"Yes. Didn't Joral report that to you?"

"We ceased communicating after the situation on Nar Shadaa was resolved. It was safer that way for you. I expected someone else to be on Ryloth. But I have lost contact with him." Staring into the distance the lieutenant fell silent once more. 

"Another agent?" There was no answer. Abla gave Sarreti a sharp nod, but frowned at the others pained expression. "I guess explanations can wait. I will get someone to help you. And then we will make you a bit more presentable for your meeting with Yana Dar."

"That won't be necessary," a soft voice told him and he could feel her breath on his cheek. Turning his head he gave her a surprised glance.

"For how long have you been standing there?" So that had been the reason for Sarreti's sudden silence. Yana's blue eyes were fixed on the lieutenant, but when she spoke she was talking to Abla.

"If I were you I would not trust him. He has been keeping vital information from you, that might have endangered the plan. He is keeping more secrets. I can sense it."

Glancing back at Sarreti Abla frowned deeply. "What do you mean?"

"Irek." Her voice was very hard, matching the look in her eyes. "I am wondering why my brother is still alive."

"What?" His surprise was heart-felt. Hadn't she told him just a day ago that she would not

want her brother harmed?"

She gazed at him calmly, her features unreadable. "Think about it. It was your task to bring me here, the lieutenant's task to get Markhan out of the way, and Erinin's to protect Irek. Irek is still alive, so Erinin must have been ignorant of my father's plans for me and my brother. Who, may I ask, was to get rid of Irek?"

"Andarack!"

The shadow stilled, melding into the darkness that permeated the entire hangar bay. But Anakin had been expecting this. With a flick of his hand he reactivated the hangar's lighting and as the rows of glowrods sprung to life he walked closer to the Noghri standing next to the ship that had brought Padmé and her team back from Ryloth. 

"My lord," the Noghri warrior greeted him, holding his head high, obviously poised for flight or attack, whichever might become necessary. One clawed hand slipped underneath his gray tunic, yet the Dark Lord ignored the threat of a simple weapon, and instead focused on what he could perceive through the Force. 

"I have given alarm," Anakin explained calmly. "There are soldiers already on their way to meet us. I would ask you to surrender."

"I believed you wanted to keep my allegiance a secret?"

"My trust, Andarack, is not easily gain. You lied to me before."

"I served your mate during her mission to Ryloth," the Noghri reasoned calmly. "Did that not earn your trust?"

"It earned gratitude, no more. You also submitted yourself to my judgement and I asked you to stay here, to see what you would do if I confined you to Coruscant. Your leaving now tells me that your noble offering simply was another lie meant to appease me."

"You are stalling for time, my lord, and I have no time to lose."

"Where are you going?"

"Someplace."

Taking another step forward the Dark Lord hefted his lightsaber in a two-handed grip and ignited the blade. "You will stay or die, Andarack clan Rim'kai."

"I will do neither." The Noghri's hand came out from underneath his tunic in one smooth movement and a dagger came flying at Anakin at impossible speed. It stopped in mid-flight, halted by the Force, but another was already following the first. And another, and another. Anakin frowned. In the end six knives were forming a loose net in front of him, separating him from Andarack. He could not charge at the warrior without running around the knives, which would cost him precious time, and if he simply released the daggers – looking into the Noghri's black eyes he knew that that would possibly be the fastest way for him to die. 

"Please, I would not want to hurt you unnecessarily," Andarack explained. "Don't make me hurt you." 

Anakin glared at him. "What are you going to do?"

"I will eliminate a threat." Taking a step back Andarack turned away toward the ship's entry hatch. 

"What threat?" the Dark Lord called after him. 

"His name is Irek Ismaren," the Noghri replied, without looking around. "He needs to be eliminated."

"No! Andarack! I order you to stay!"

This time the warrior did spare him a glance and it was full of sorrow. "I cannot," he said softly, before he punched in the last numbers of the ship's code. 

Making his decision Anakin held his lightsaber blade in front of his chest, in preparation for a wide slash that would take care of at least three of the knives. At the same time he formed a

shield of air that would offer additional protection. Then he lunged forward, simultaneously movig the shield and losing his grip on the knives. They clattered to the deck obediently and just as the Dark Lord dropped the shield to swing his lightsaber at the Noghri's back a blinding light filled his eyes, startling him. He threw an arm across his eyes instinctively and for a moment his concentration faltered. The swooshing sound of a knife coming at his back was his sole warning before it pierced his skin, sliding into his flesh with ease. The second dagger was deflected by his blade as he found his focus again and let the Force guide his arms, but by the time his vision had cleared and the last knife sheared into half, Andarack had already sealed the ship's hatch behind him.

The engines roared to life and Anakin had only seconds to find cover before the small yacht blasted out of the hangar. Immediately a flight of TIEs and X-wings took up the pursuit. It was dangerous to let the fighters chase a ship inside the planet's atmosphere and above the city, but Anakin did not want to take the risk of Andarack escaping in open space. Watching the ships dance around one another he was transfixed for a moment, wishing he could be up with them, but then his eyes fell on the single X-wing that had previously been hidden from view by the larger ship. With agonizing abruptness something in his back was twisted around and he dropped to his knees, crying out loud in pain. 

"I am sorry," Andarack's voice said from behind him, and he could feel the Noghri's cool skin brush against the base of his neck. "You will fall unconscious soon, but your men are almost here. They will help you."

"Why?"

"Because I have my orders. The boy has failed his test aboard the Executor, therefore he will die."

"He is just a boy," Anakin heard himself say. "There is still a chance for him."

"That is not mine to decide, my lord." The blade withdrew with a wet, sucking sound and as Anakin fell face-down to the deck he could just make out Andarack's slim form hurrying toward the X-wing. 

"Hold right there!" a voice shouted suddenly and the clatter of boots on the polished deck filled the hangar with the staccato sound of hard rain on metal. "Open fire!" the same voice orderd when the Noghri made no move to comply. But by then the sleek starfighter was already moving out of the hangar's confinements. "Give alarm! Lord Skywalker! Can you hear me?" 

Anakin said nothing. Closing his eyes he held back a sudden wave of despair. From the Grand Admiral's report that Needa had relayed to him he knew that Irek was bordering on 

the verge of madness, but he also remembered himself when he had first embraced the Dark Side. It had made bearing the grief and suffering sweeter, had eased his fears and turned them into powerful anger. What was Irek so afraid of? What had he lost that it hurt him so? With every time he touched the Dark Side the sweetness would grow more addictive, the anger stronger. Very soon power would be all he would crave, not the comfort and solace the darkness seemed to offer. Roganda. He needed to talk to Roganda. She would know – 

Exhaling slowly he let out his anxiety and fury. Andarack had played him for a fool, and he had been stupid enough to enter the game instead of simply eliminating that threat. He should have killed him the moment he had admitted the first lie. No matter who he was loyal to, no matter that he had aided Yana and saved Padmé's life. He had to remember that sometimes one could not afford to leave an enemy alive. With startling clarity the promise he had made to Padmé burned in his mind. But Roj Kell would have to wait a little while longer.

Following Kell hesitantly deeper into the citadel on Byss Belana kept a close watch over him. She had not forgotten what he had told her back on the ship, and she could not shed the visions that were haunting her. From what Yana had revealed about her brother she could well guess at what Palpatine had tried to accomplish through Irek. Although she did not know much about the late Emperor the Jedi Master had heard enough to determine that he had been immensely powerful and a cunning manipulator. Through Irek he had sought to become immortal. 

Shaking off those dark thought's Belana focused on the present once more. And on Kell. Together they entered a narrow hallway, with blank metal walls to either side. He stopped in front of a heavy blast door and Belana could see true anger in his eyes. It frightened her. She had never known him to take anything personal; he viewed everything that happened to him dispassionately, except for her love, maybe. The one thing he pursued with something close to obsession was his belief in the Force. Which was why his feelings concerning Palpatine consisted mainly of open hatred and indignation. Whatever he had taught his last student the late Emepror had twisted to his own advantage. 

Laying a cautioning hand on his shoulder the Jedi Master steadied herself against him as she caught up. Even after having been a specter for what seemed an eternity she had still not shed the habits of her mortal self. And it felt good to have that physical connection. "What is behind that door?" she asked quietly.

"You heard Yana."

"But I want to hear it from you," she explained softly.

He gave a non-committal grunt, but did not meet her eyes as he opened the door by frying the lock in a shower of sparks. Beyond lay what looked at first sight to be a medical facility. In its midst a massive chair had been set into the floor. Manacles potruded from its slick metal surface and the head-rest was a mass of cables and wires. Belana swallowed slowly.

"Yana said he somehow managed to flash-print your memory..." she whispered aloud. So that was why he was so furious. There were two things Kell could not cope with: losing his freedom and losing his knowledge.

"That was only the second choice," Kell told her harshly as he strode toward the chair. "His original intent was to enslave my will. The technology in this room was copied from an alien race, the Ssi-Ruuk. They use life energy to power their ships and machines. Through an apparatus such as this one they gain control over the minds of their victims."

"You have met them?" It was not really a question. Looking over his shoulder at her Kell gave her a curt nod. "Then you knew this technology might become a danger to you," she reasoned and frowned at the very thought. "How did you manage to resist? You never liked machines much."

"I have protection," he answered softly, his left hand caressing the chair gently. "Do you think I should have eliminated a threat that might have become a danger in the distant future?"

"Well, you did just recently kill a lot of people because of a future threat."

"And don't you think it hurt me to do exactly that?" he whispered, meeting her questioning glance. "Don't you understand that this is exactly the reason for me to shield my emotions, my mind, to be able to do what needs to be done?"

"You never seemed reluctant to give or receive pain when it suited your purposes," Belana told him, remembering all too vividly her first lesson at his hands. 

He blinked heavy eyelids at her, apparently deep in thought. Finally he gave a nod. "When I was young I did not mind the hurt. I cherished it because I felt it was part of myself, part of my duty." Pursing his lips he frowned. "Then I discovered that I could use it to my advantage, could use people's fears in my favor, but I could only do so while keeping my own emotions in check."

"No rules," the Jedi Master said quietly. "You always told me that the rules don't apply to you. But they do, don't they? That was why you did not destroy the Ssi-Ruuk when you discovered the threat they posed, why you mourned the demise of the Sith even though they had become your enemies."

Kell gave her a sly smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "Those rules were enforced on me when I became Cor'dan. I always had to learn the hard way, until the point where understanding exceeded knowledge and the balance of power tipped in my favor. That was when I turned to the Dark Side." 

Belana had always wondered why he had become such a great believer in control over oneself and others. Now she thought she understood. It seemed that during the training 

the Cor'dan went through different stages. He had never cared to explain those to her, and she knew he never would, because it was something sacred to him. Things were clearer now. 

"You never used it the way Palpatine did."

"I might have, had my power not been limited. I was fascinated by power. And yet, after the second war had ended I realized that all the power the Dark Side could give me was nothing compared to what power I already had. That was why I left my master. That is control, Belana, when knowledge and understanding govern raw force. That is the meaning of being Cor'dan." He closed his eyes in dismay: "But I did crave that power, " he whispered. "I craved it very much."

"You have accepted your duty once more," Belana reasoned, then glanced at the machinery again, feeling uneasy. "So what are we doing here? If you truly feel that you are ready for the last step you must have forgiven Palpatine for what he did to you."

"Forgiven him?" His face darkened. "No. He has paid the price for his crimes, but he has not earned absolution. What he tried to accomplish here would have violated everything I believe in. I could not let that happen, let alone forget his hand in it."

"What about your son? Will you let him pay for the crimes of his creator?" She felt helpless rage, knowing very well that her lover viewed life much differently than she did.

"Irek is an abomination," he declared, making her wince at his tone. "I cannot accept this thing as something truly alive, truly grown. It was created for a specific purpose, to humiliate me and ridicule my beliefs. My dear student always liked his revenge to be up close and personal. I would not have expected anything less."

Belana was silent for a long while, not knowing what to say. All he saw in Irek was a mockery of his very existence, of everything he had ever fought for. He believed that Palpatine had let Irek become what he was today only to spite his old master. In a sense Irek was exactly the weapon Kell would have been had Palpatine succeeded in taking over his will. No wonder he was so mad. She remembered very well his obsession with lecturing others on his point of view, how contemptuous he had been of others. To find his own beliefs twisted with such off-hand and purposeful ignorance was the ultimate insult to him.

A year ago Kell had manipulated Anakin Skywalker into a position that had forced the Dark Lord to stand up to his master and defeat him. Kell had finished what had been left of Palpatine's presence, and there was no doubt in the Jedi Master's mind that – had he known about Irek's existence back then – he would have done everything in his power to destroy the boy in anger. A fight he could never have won, Belana reflected with dread, and one that might have left scars on this galaxy that never would have healed again. 

"What are you going to do then?" she asked softly, fearing the answer.

"What I must."

TBC


	19. Chapter 18 - A Matter of Faith

****

Chapter 18 – A Matter of Faith

"They seem to like you," Abla told her as they watched the moffs and governors file out of the meeting room. 

Most of them wore pleased smiles or smug expressions on their faces, undoubtedly due to the promises Yana had made to them. She sat in her chair at the head of the table, feeling exhausted. Absent-mindedly she took Abla's hand and he squeezed it gently with a warm smile directed at her. But Yana hardly noticed it. 

"Counselor," she said and watched Sarreti turn his head slowly. His eyes met hers in anger. 

"Yes, my lady?" Even his voice was tense. Leaning toward him Yana gave him her best glare, but he did not even flinch. Stubborn, foolish man. Yet a look at the scars the Grand Admiral's inquisitors had left on his features were reminder enough of his loyalty and soothed her anger somewhat. 

"Counselor, even though I understand the necessity of indulging my allies I would have preferred a faster solution. This way it will take me years to gain the influence I want."

"Better than to die within the week," he countered coldly. 

"Your Highness," a male voice called from the door. Looking up Yana stared at Moff Hah Kima of Anobis. She favored him with a frown, annoyed that his interruption had forced her to delay her argument with Sarreti again. The newly named counselor was already rising from his chair, not waiting for his dismissal, and strode past Kima out of the door. The moff turned to watch him walk away with a pensive look. When he returned his gaze to Yana she leaned back in her seat with a blank expression on her face. "Your Highness," he repeated. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Not at all. Did you just see something you do not like?"

He shook his head reassuringly. "No. I am very pleased with your terms."

"Yet you question my trust in Counselor Sarreti."

"With all due respect, he is a troublesome man. I wonder why he is still – here."

"And alive? I will tell you why. A ruler who is not aware of her own worth and believes she must first convince her advisors to cooperate with her would probably have Franzis Sarreti silenced. I know exactly what I am worth, and so does he. Therefore there is no need for false pretense. If he does not like something about my plans he will tell me, and I will return the favor. Do you want to know how I would deal with those who are less than sincere in their committment to the Empire?"

"No need for that, Your Highness, I believe you have proven your point quite well." 

She knew what he was referring to. Tious Markhan's bloody demise had been the talk of the day, and Yana had let them believe that it had been her who had ordered his death. It was more convenient that way, as Roj Kell had told her in the first place. The ancient Sith was content to stay in the shadows, ever-present and seemingly her most dangerous weapon. Little did Moff Kima know that it was not Kell he should be wary of, but Yana herself. Now she understood why her father had kept Darth Vader at his side. 

True, for now she was little more than a student, but her teacher assured her that she was doing well. A smile curled around her lips as she thought about how thoroughly her father's plans had failed. He had wanted Sarreti to prepare the Empire for her coming, but Sarreti had known that reforms were needed, and the agent had known that Yana for one would approve of his plans. And his scrutiny concerning her own suggestions made certain that she would not become overwhelmed by what power she now could command as long as he was at her side. She gave the man standing in front of her a cheerful smile.

"Was there something else, Moff Kima?"

"The Court, Your Highness. Will you revive the Court?"

"Why do you ask?"

"The nobles have proven to be traitors in the past. I was wondering how you were going to deal with them." 

"I am not going to deal with them at all," she told him with a laugh that turned into a purr of satisfaction. "Let them deal with me, if they dare."

Once Yana had sent Hah Kima on his way she rose from her seat again and stalked toward the door, leaving Abla no choice but to follow. She did not seem in the mood to talk, so he kept silent, pondering the past events with wonder. So much had happened, so much had changed. It was true, what they had begun here today would take years to make itself known, but he knew that Yana was patient. And Sarreti was sure to keep her on the straight and narrow. Only one thing still bothered him and when they rounded a corner and headed toward the experimental facilities in the lower parts of the inner fortress he felt very uneasy. 

"Yana," he began softly, "I wonder why you did not send him away."

"Who? Sarreti? Not you too!"

"Not Sarreti," he told her reproachfully. "Of course not. I mean Kell. Now that we have the Seeker-program fully functional we do not need him any longer. He is dangerous."

"You have a point there, but I have two point in favor of his staying," she countered. "First, we might not be able to think of the right questions to ask the Seeker. He can answer any question that might arise. Second, if he had wanted to leave he would have done so, but he stayed. I suggest he has a reason for that."

"What if he really just wants to manipulate you, as Jade suggested?"

"To what purpose? He says he does not want power, and I believe him."

"If you say so ..." his voice trailed off as they entered the laboratories and he frowned at the couple bending over one of the workstations. 

Mara Jade gave him a quick glance and a nod, while her Corellian partner straightened up and followed them with his eyes as they passed through the chamber. Abla understood that Yana wanted to make good with the New Republic, which was why she let the two agents root around the laboratories, to gain some useful information about how to stop Irek, if necessary. Franzis Sarreti had told them that he had sent someone to apprehend the boy and Yana had demanded he recall that order. She wanted her brother alive. Unfortunately Sarreti had lost contact with that particular agent and she had grudgingly agreed with him when he had reasoned that if Irek came to Byss they could protect him. Abla was grinning inwardly. It seemed as if Sarreti had agents everyhwere, with the New Republic, the Hutts and even on board the Executor.

Another door slid open before them and Yana stopped in the doorframe, halted by the chaos that greeted them. Abla looked over her shoulder and winced ever so slightly. Standing in the middle of the ruined equipment of what seemed at first glance to have been a medical facility Roj Kell balanced the obsidian cube of the holocron on his palm with a pensive look on his face.

"I thought you said the prophecies were worthless," Abla heard Yana ask in a soft voice.

"I lied."

Yana seemed taken aback. "You lied? But – but why did the program not react?"

Kell looked straight at her, his pale eyes without emotion. "The Jen'da prophecies cannot be pegged down by cross-references and categories. They are a thing of the heart, the soul, of faith. How could a machine recognise these things, let alone understand them?"

"So you lied to deceive Markhan, is that it?"

He shook his head. "No. Tious Markhan was a dead man from the beginning. A pawn to sacrifice. It is just – " His gaze sought the holocron again and of a sudden it came alive, the black screen rising above his palm. 

"What do they say?" Yana inquired as she stepped closer. Abla followed at a cautious distance. 

"Do you remember what I told you about your studies?"

"You said knowledge is not the same as understanding."

"Very true. A wise woman once told me that there has to be a balance between the heart and the mind, body and soul, weakness and strength. One can understand the beauty of the sunrise, or fathom the depths of love and hate, but that has nothing to do with knowledge. This is why these prophecies are useless. Why prophecies are always useless. Only in experiencing life can one weather the challenge of survival. One committed to knowledge will perish, one committed to understanding will thrive." He snorted softly. "Take this one: The living dead shall resurrect the glories of the past to rekindle the flame of life and reclaim what was once lost."

"_You_ said that," Abla exclaimed. "You said that when you activated the holocron!"

A malevolent smile appeared on the ancient Sith Lord's lips. "Do you want me to tell you what it means? What will happen?"

"I am not sure I want to know."

"A wise decision. If I told you, all you would think of would be that damn prophecy. They make people forget what is truly important in life." He snorted. "I will give you another example. 'The eye of the storm looks benevolently upon the true of heart and soul. Therefore true kindness must be achieved through the storm of death'. Would you understand any of this?"

"No," Abla admitted. "But you would."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Knowledge can be a key to the future, but understanding is the key to enlightenment. Knowledge is a weapon, understanding a remedy. Knowledge can be acquired, true understanding cannot be learned. Knowledge is a matter of reason, understanding is a matter of the heart."

"Why are you telling us all this?" Yana asked, sounding bewildered. She gave Abla a questioning glance, but he could only answer with a helpless shrug. Both turned their eyes toward the ancient Sith simultaneously. "What does that have to do with the prophecies?"

"Everything." Clenching his hand into a fist ever so slowly Roj Kell crushed the holocron in his palm. The black screen faltered and with a small shower of sparks the obsidian cube broke apart. Abla heard Yana gasp in shock. "This," the Sith said calmly, as he let the shards drop to the floor, "is knowledge." Extending his palm above the small pile of rubble he lifted the sad remains of the holocron up and let them spin in the air, forming a small cloud of black metal pieces. They swirled ever faster and it seemed to Abla that they were somehow being ground into glittering black dust. "This is power," Roj Kell whispered. "And this," he said at last, raking his long fingers through what were now no more than dust motes dancing, "is understanding." 

Abla stared at the flirring mist of darkness that caught the artificial light and reflected it, like a black sea underneath the white light of a full moon. His mouth hung open as he gazed in awe at something beautiful and magical, something that could not be described in words. With a supreme effort he managed to tear his eyes away from the display and look at Yana. She wore an expression of wonder on her face and he could see revelation dawn in her blue gaze. Suddenly a smile blossomed on her lips and she clapped her hands in delight. 

"Now I can't be angry with you for destroying the holocron any longer," she laughed. "You truly do understand human nature."

"I do," he agreed in solemn tones. "Which is why you will take the throne today."

"But we told them it would not be for the next few days, that we would determine the terms first – "

"That is what they know, Yana. You have the power to turn that knowledge into ignorance and make them understand the futility of their petty struggle for dominance."

Yana frowned. "Do you mean the New Republic or my moffs and governors?"

"Guess."

Leaning against the wall Jix was watching Mara type in commands on the keyboard of the workstation they had found down here that was still functional. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, her lips tight with concentration. Finally she hit a last key and looked up to meet his eyes.

"There's nothing more to be found," she announced and leaned back in her chair. "It all boils down to Magrody. He is the one with the answers. Do you want to contact his lordship or shall I?"

He did not answer right away. They had scourged the files for hours, to gain some details on what Yana had revealed to them about her brother just a few hours ago. It seemed unbelievable that Irek was her half-brother, or for that matter, that his existence was actually based on a genetic experiment. Not even his mother knew the truth, let alone the boy himself. But Yana did. Yana knew surprisingly many things about the late Emperor, even for being his daughter. But all of that did not matter right now. 

"We need to talk," Jix told Mara hoarsely. 

"We do?"

He nodded and detached from the wall to rest his hands on the back of her chair. "Someplace private."

Mara frowned at him. They had not talked much ever since they had come to Byss, and Mara had always let him know in no uncertain terms that she did not wish to discuss anything. And Jix had not wanted to put her off. Now, though, that they were about to return to Coruscant he deemed it very necessary that they put a few things straight. Just as she rose from her seat Abla Othana and Yana Dar returned from whatever they had been discussing with the old man back there. The couple stopped to gaze at both Jix and Mara, then Yana whispered something in her lover's ear and he nodded and left, while she strode toward the two agents briskly.

"What can we do for you?" Mara asked distantly.

"I did not come to make a request, Mara Jade. I wanted to make you an offer."

"What about the holocron?" Jix asked. "Do you still need that?"

The blonde woman shook her head and bit her lower lip for some reason. Then she smiled. 

"I know your boss wanted to have it for safe-keeping, but that won't be necessary any longer."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Lord Kell destroyed it."

"What! That bastard!" Mara hissed and started for the door, but Yana held her back.

"Are you out of your mind?" she asked coolly. "The holocron is gone. Let it be." Her eyes turned toward Jix. "You will report to Lord Skywalker?"

"Of course."

"Good. I have much to prepare for tonight, so I fear I will not have the time to talk to him personally. I want you to give him a message."

"Yes?"

"Tell him that I would appreciate his input concerning the Chiss. When will the two of you be leaving?"

"I suppose we will find out once we have talked to him," Jix answered with a shrug. 

"Good. Please let me know." With that she turned away and left. 

Mara and Jix shared a troubled glance. Then she said. "With what we know it stands to reason that Irek will come here once Yana declares herself Empress tonight."

"How do you think he will react?"

"I am not sure." She grimaced in disdain. "Perhaps he will feel that Yana has slighted him, that she is trying to keep all the power to herself, power he feels he is entitled to also."

Jix folded his arms across his chest, his features completely earnest. "Mara. Do you think I am slighting you because of your youth and inexperience?" 

"What?"

"You seem discontent with the way I am treating you."

"Well, you can really be that arrogant. I am not a child any longer." Mirroring his stance she stood facing him with defiance in her emerald eyes. "So, are you going to apologize?"

"No."

"No!" Mara threw up her hands in disgust and turned away. "I should have known!"

In a few strides he had joined her and lay a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to look at him and made no move to fend him off. Possibly that was a good sign. "Mara," he said softly, "you are a great woman, and you are tough. I really admire that in you, apart from other things, of course," he added with a grin that brought a smile to her eyes. "But you think you must compete with me so I will take you serious. That's not the way it works. I _am_ older and more experienced than you, and there is a lot you can learn from me, if only you would accept that." His lips compressed in a tight line as he gave her a worried glance. "If you cannot do that, I think we should go our separate ways for a while."

"Jix, you are insufferable," she told him coldly and janked her shoulder away from his touch. But before she could walk away a tall figure blocked her way. Roj Kell stared down at her as if seeing her for the first time. 

"What are you still doing here?" he asked harshly. 

"We were just looking for information," Mara stammered, her surprise showing clearly on her face. 

"Information?" A nasty smile appreared on the ancient Sith's lips. "For the Dark Lord, I assume. So you will be returning to Coruscant." They nodded mutely. "Good. I may have a task for you before you leave."

"Lord Skywalker, I must admit I am most displeased with your recklessness. You could have been killed."

Looking up into Mon Mothma's eyes Anakin winced a bit as the medic finished the last stitches to close the wound Andarack's knife had left in his back. It had not been too serious after all. "He wouldn't have killed me, and I told you so beforehand," he said.

"You should have told me he is an Imperial agent, too."

"What for? It would not have changed anything, even if you had had him locked up somewhere."

"You say he will try to kill Irek Ismaren?"

"He said as much."

"Can he succeed?"

Anakin shook his head. "I doubt it." He frowned at the shirt the medic handed him, then took it and pulled it over his head. "Thank you." Meeting the President's gaze again he sighed. "As far as we know Irek has not been trained as a Darksider. He is acting on instinct, and if he has only half of his father's power Andarack will never know what hit him."

"But Andarack is a seasoned fighter. That should be of advantage to him."

"Not against an unpredictable foe. Andarack is no assassin. He will confront Irek openly, and that will be the last mistake he will ever make."

"Father!" Leia rushed toward them, her eyes wide. "I came as fast as I could," she explained as she joined them. 

"I am quite all right. Don't worry about me," he said dismissively and smiled. 

"Should I perhaps worry about someone else then?" she asked right back. Anakin laughed. 

"Not yet, that's for sure. Any news? Has Thrawn contacted us again? Anything from Mara and Jix?"

Leia nodded. "That's why I could not come earlier. Jix is waiting for you. He wanted to leave a report, but I made him stay on the line. I think you may have more questions."

"Thank you." Throwing her a pensive look he rose and started toward the door. "Madam President, if you will excuse us?"

"I won't," Mon Monthma countered. "I am coming wth you."

"As you wish," the Dark Lord sighed. It was a short walk from the small medical ward of the administrative complex to Anakin's office, where Leia had received the call. There was no visual, only an audio comm channel. Taking a seat behind his desk Anakin switched the comm off standby. "Jix, glad to hear you're alive."

"Why, thank you, Uncle Dee. We have some very charming company," the Corellian growled. 

"Company?"

"Well, yes. I guess you know Kell is alive?"

"Certainly. So he is on Byss?"

"Yes. We are allowed to do some research in the laboratories, but I am not sure if he'll leave much of the facility intact. I have never seen him so mad."

"Any chance of talking to him?" Anakin asked warily. 

"I offered that to him and he refuses to talk with you. I have already told the Princess the most important bits and pieces. She insisted that you might have more questions."

Kell did not want to talk to him? Interesting. "Admiral Voss Parck. Is he still on Byss?"

"I'll have to check that," the Corellian answered. "Mara! Can you go ask for Admiral Parck?"

"Thank you. Another thing. The comm relays to Nirauan are dead. Any clue?"

"Yeah. They should be online again. We had some – difficulties with our allies on planet."

"Franzis Sarreti?"

"Should have guessed you already knew," Jix growled. "Here's Mara. No the Admiral is not here." There was a pause. "Last anyone heard Markhan was going to eliminate him."

"I am pretty certain that Puket is alive, so Parck should be okay," Anakin answered irritably.

"Markhan himself is out, I assume?"

"In pieces, actually. Sarreti is working with Yana and she'll declare herself Empress tonight. She also wanted me to tell you that she would appreciate your input on the Chiss."

Anakin drew a sharp breath and gave Mon Mothma a long look. "The Chiss? We have not heard anything of the Grand Admiral since the Executor went back to Nirauan."

"Markhan knew that Irek would escape. Sarreti told him."

"Wait a minute," Mon Mothma interrupted the Corellian. "She's going to declare herself Empress?"

"Yes. That's inoffical as of yet, but I thought you might want to know beforehand. What about us? Do you want us to return to Coruscant?" 

"No," the Dark Lord breathed. "I think I will meet you on Byss."

After the Dark Lord had ended the call Jix sat staring at the comm for quite a while and Mara sat a bit further back, watching him pensively. But then he turned his head to look at the white-haired Sith standing next to him. "Why didn't you want to talk to him?"

"Because sometimes it is better not to know what to expect." The old man's head came up and he frowned. "The ceremony will begin soon. I have to be there."

"We haven't been invited," Mara said, unbidden. She had had a hard time keeping silent throughout the conversation. Her last argument with Jix, unresolved as of yet, made her jittery and angry at the same time. 

"Of course not," Kell chuckled. "This is politics, after all." He seemed very thoughtful, and Mara could hazard a guess as to what he was thinking about. Irek. Slipping off her seat she walked over to join Jix and the Sith Lord at the comm. 

"Do you think Irek will come?" she asked softly. 

"I am certain of it."

She threw a look at Jix, fumbling for another question. In a sense the relationship between Yana and her brother was similar to the one she shared with Jix. But Mara was certain that she for one would never come running just to fight Jix for the spoils of some grand scheme. She had her pride, after all. She might be angry at him, but she would not confront him like some foolish child. "What do you think will happen?"

Roj Kell's pale green eyes turned on her and he wore a surprisingly gentle expression on his aged face. "I believe Yana understands his situation well enough. She will make him feel at home, and at ease. And if she can make him see the error of his assumption he will bow to her greater experience, even though his power surpasses hers. It all depends on his insight, of course, his understanding of these matters." Somehow Mara gained the feeling that he was really talking about her, not Irek. She blushed violently and did not dare look at Jix as the old man continued. "Should he fail to recognize the offer he will have to learn the hard way."

"The hard way? What do you mean?" Jix asked suddenly and Mara glanced at him briefly, to see a worried frown on his forehead.

"If he does not realize his past mistakes I will kill him."

"What!" Mara exclaimed, shocked. "But he is your son!"

The smirk he directed at her was answer enough. "Don't be ridiculous," he admonished her. "He is a tool, a weapon."

"But to kill him –"

"Will be the only way to deal with him should he refuse to accept responsibility," he interrupted her. "There is no other choice."

"How do you want to know?" Mara asked, her voice quivering with righteous anger. The arrogance of the man! "If we can keep him somewhere confined until he has learned that lesson he can still have a chance."

"And how do you propose he is to learn responsibility locked up in a prison? Palpatine knew exactly what he was doing when he left the boy without proper guidance. He knew that, should he die, against all expectations, without being able to infest the boy's mind first, he could be certain that Irek would be corrupted by his power and wrack havoc on this galaxy until he was brought down. The price for that would have been horrendous."

"How do you want to know?" she demanded, outraged. 

His white brows rose in consternation. "I know, Mara Jade, because I was exactly the same. That is why the Cor'dan must first accomplish a journey, the Jer'fra, to understand the power of patience in order to gain knowledge. Why Jedi were only allowed to enter the Temple as young children, so their growing power could be guided properly."

"What does that have to do with Irek?"

"Think about it. Irek is filled with an insatiable hunger for information, for understanding how the world around him works. But he has no patience, and he knows he has the power to bend his surroundings to his will. There is nothing that can stop him, if he wants to accomplish something. He is still feeble in his control of the Dark Side, but soon that will not matter anymore. Soon the Dark Side will rule him, mind and soul."

Jix had risen from his seat and Mara noticed the white-knuckled grip he had on his blaster. "Why didn't you go mad with your power, then? When you turned to the Dark Side, why were you not corrupted?"

"I _was_ corrupted by it, Jixton," the ancient Sith explained coldly. "But I never had the power Irek possesses and I had something to believe in, to keep me going, and that was balance. Irek does not know what to believe in, except power, therefore he has no such protection. The Dark Side has him and there is nothing to shield him against its influence, except perhaps his feelings for his sister. Should they prove strong enough, he will live. If not –" 

He left the threat unfinished, but Mara felt a shiver run down her back like an icy shower. Her eyes wide with disbelief and incomprehension she did not protest when Jix wrapped her in his arms to stop her trembling. They watched Roj Kell walk away in long, measured strides, and both knew that he would go through with his threat, should it become necessary. 

"I pray he knows what he is doing," Mara whispered, with tears in her eyes. Twisting around in Jix' embarce she held on to him tightly. "I love you, Jix, and I know I have been a fool. I won't question you like this again. Promise."

He gently brought her chin up and kissed her then, his lips following the tears that left wet trails down her cheeks. "It is good to have you back," he murmured, "and I will do my best to let you earn the respect you deserve."

Seated in her chair, her legs drawn up beside her, Roganda gripped the cup of hot tea firmly in her hands. Her mind was racing with the new information the Dark Lord had given her. Irek was alive, and he would undoubtedly try to get to Yana, once her ascension to the throne became public. What he would do then she did not even want to imagine. With the state Irek was in now, he would likely try to kill his sister. For Force's sake, he had not even hesitated in killing Erinin! Looking up from peering into her cup in deep thought she met the Dark Lord's blue eyes. 

"You are right. I believe he will indeed go to Byss. It is fortunate that we have an advantage in that we know before he will."

He leaned toward her with a nod. "That is not all, Roganda. There is someone on his trail with orders to kill him. I do not believe the killer can succeed, but the attack, when it comes, will surely drive Irek deeper into the Dark Side. It is unfortunate that we do not know where he is right now, else we might be able to apprehend him before he can even get to Byss, and thereby protect him against that assailant."

"A killer?" she asked, almost dropping the cup. Despite the seriousness of the situation and despite her recognition of the danger her son presented, she could not ignore the protective feelings she still had for her child. She set the cup down and lay a hand on his forearm pleadingly. "Lord Skywalker, you have to take me with you!"

"I am not certain if that would be wise. He might see you as the root of his problem, might blame you for everything. He could kill you as easily as he killed his bodyguard."

"He is my son. It is my duty to be there for him. And you will be with me. Surely you can stop him?"

"Only with force. If it comes to that – Roganda, if he does not see reason I fear I will have no choice but to eliminate him."

Sobbing quietly Roganda averted her eyes. This was just what the Grand Admiral had told her too. "But he is my son," she whispered. "How could he – How can I sanction this?"

"Perhaps there is still a chance. I have learned that Roj Kell is on Byss."

"Who?" she asked, her forehead creasing into a frown. 

He hesitated and licked his lips nervously. It was an unsettling sight. "Roganda, I have received a report today from my agents on Byss. You know the place."

"Of course," she nodded. "That is where – where I conceived Irek." She closed her eyes in shame at the remembrance of that event. 

"Your master took you to his bed, is that true?"

"Yes, but that is not how – how I came to bear his child."

"I know."

Roganda gasped aloud. "You know?"

"Yes. And what is more, I know that Irek – that Irek is not Palpatine's son. At least," he added hurriedly when her eyebrows climbed ever higher, "at least not only his son."

"_What_ do you mean?" It took a lot of effort to keep her voice down and not jump up to shake the truth out of him. "Not his child? He told me he was his heir!"

"Roganda, I know this will be hard for you, but I hope that it will not change your feelings for your son. He _is_ your son, no matter what."

"Of course," she agreed uneasily. "So what is this about?"

"The foetus that was implanted in your womb was the result of a genetic experiment. It combined the Emperor's DNA with that of another man, Roj Kell, to create a unique being. Irek is very special, in more ways than is apparent at first sight." The Dark Lord paused to give her a chance to digest this. 

Roganda frowned. "You mean he is a clone?"

"Not exactly. There is no one else like him. This man, Roj Kell, was your master's mentor. He is also quite unbelievable." A small smile appeared on the Dark Lord's scarred face. "He will not tolerate any foolishness on Irek's part and he has the power to control him if need be."

"Does he know?" Roganda hesitated. "Does he know that Irek is his son?"

"Yes."

She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself, but her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, betraying her true state of mind. This was all so confusing ... "Does he resemble my master?"

"Your master!" Skywalker seemed aghast, then broke into soft chuckles. "I suppose there could not be two men more different than those two."

Roganda smiled weakly. "Oh. And that is good, is it?"

"I hope so."

"It is done." Rising from her seat the Empress walked over to the viewport to look out over the citadel of the inner fortress. Her blue eyes were fixed on the courtyard, where an officer was picking soldiers from a squad of troopers. It was Sarreti, who had taken it upon himself to select the members of the new Royal Guard. No matter how much trouble he might be, he was completely loyal to the Empire, completely loyal to her. "Abla."

He joined her in a few quick strides. "Yes, Your Highness."

"You will prepare everything for the transfer of the Seeker equipment to Nar Shadaa."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

He gave her a sharp bow and turned briskly to carry out her command. She watched him leave with a blank look on her face. Abla was taking his duties very seriously, just like Sarreti, and he was also staying true to his promise. A smile stole upon her lips. He was not all that deferential when they were alone together. 

"An excellent choice of agents, Your Majesty. They will serve you faithfully." 

Yana turned her head elegantly to face the tall man standing at the door, keeping to the shadows like a hunter on the chase, or an assassin. His pale eyes were glittering softly in the gloom. "I appreciate your approval, Lord Kell," she told him coolly and whirled toward her chair to take a seat once more. Arranging her dress carefully around herself she looked up to meet his gaze again. "Yet I am willing to bet my newly gained throne that your suggestion was not for purely selfless reasons."

"No. Very true. And what do you think my motives were, exactly?" His enchanting voice was a low purr and yet it seemed to fill the entire room. 

"You did not want to take the risk of letting the program fall into Irek's hands. Apart from giving Skywalker the leverage he needs to buy himself off the New Republic, of course."

"Well done. And you do not regret giving up all that knowledge, all that you ever wanted?"

She smiled at him smugly. "It was you who advised me to entrust that weapon to someone who I thought could handle it with respect and care. I know no one else safe the Dark Lord who could meet those requirements."

"Yes," he whispered after a thoughtful pause. "He will understand the message. He will come at last."

Yana shuddered at his tone, so full of fervor and longing. "What message?" she asked, frowning at him. 

He gave her a small bow and a smile. "Your Majesty, I know you have important matters to see to. I will retreat for now to leave you to your duties."

"You will stay."

Surprise was evident on his aged face, surprise at the commaning tone in her voice. Suddenly his pale eyes tightened. "I will warn you only once Yana Dar. Do not mess with me. If I do not want to tell you something you can be certain that I have my reasons, and you will accept that."

Yana raised her brows coolly. "I am Empress, Lord Kell, and you agreed to serve me for the time being. Unless you want to end that agreement right here and now I suggest you tell me exactly what you meant." It was very hard to keep her voice calm and steady, to meet his eyes, what with her stomach fluttering wildly and her mind tingling with exhiliaration. This was a dangerous move she had made, but she felt almost confident that he would not break his promise. Almost. 

His lips compressed into a tight line, but then he nodded. She nearly sighed in relief. "Very well," he began, just as the door opened to admit Franzis Sarreti.

"Get out," Yana snapped at the counselor, furious at this unwelcome interruption. She glared at him when he closed the door behind him and gave her a cool look. "Counselor, your presence is not required right now," she explained haughtily, while trying to ignore the smirk that had appeared an Kell's face. Sarreti threw a glance first at her, then at the Sith. 

"I have just received news from Coruscant," he explained. "Lord Skywalker has announced his impending visit on Byss. I believe we cannot refuse him that right."

"Of course not!" Yana replied heatedly, still angry at both men. "That was the entire purpose of keeping Jixton and Jade here, so they could keep him informed."

"Some of the moffs might object. They might want the Empire to withdraw from galactic politics completely."

"Then they would be fools und unfit to act as administrators in my Empire. Be sure to tell them exacty that. I want them all present when I receive the representative of the New Republic."

"Yes, Your Highness," he answered smoothly. "I will see to it at once." 

As Sarreti turned to leave Roj Kell followed him to the door. Fuming, Yana suppressed an urge to scream at him to stay. Instead she made herself sound utterly calm. "Lord Kell," she said. "I expect you to attend also."

"As you wish."

The Millennium Falcon touched down on one of the outrageously priced landing platforms of Nar Shadaa. Han had left the ambassadorial convoy outside of the system so as not to attract attention once he veered off toward the Smugglers' Moon while they went off toward Nal Hutta to meet with Joral. He had did not like leaving Padmé alone during this trip, but he had an appointment to keep. Locking the ship down he left the platform and stepped into the administrative office to deposit an advance payment. Without one his ship would likely be junk by the time he got back

"A friend of mine is supposedly in town," he told the Quarren behind the counter casually. 

"I would like to find him as quickly as possible. Perhaps you have his ship notched down somewhere?"

"How much is your friend worth?"

Han flipped the alien a few credits. "Name's Talon Karrde. Well-known broker." He added more credits when the Quarren remained silent. 

"Ah, now I remember. He actually spread word that a friend would come to visit. He also mentioned something about the Pashey Club, which, as you know, of course, has been closed down by the Imps."

"Yeah, I kinda knew that. Thanks, pal."

With a certain spring in his step Han Solo made his way to the upper levels of the city. The Pashey Club had once belonged to Yana Dar, before the Empire had seized her operations and arrested her employees. Now it was the perfect place for Talon Karrde and Han to meet. The Imperial seal on the door had been broken. No need for caution here; after all the Empire had withdrawn from Hutt Space, except for Ryloth. Stalking into the building Han frowned. No sentinels? He walked on, feeling more and more uncomfortable in the silence of the deserted night-club. A door opened before him and led him into a turbo-lift. He took it up to what had once been the dance-floor and was relieved to find Aves waiting for him.

"Welcome, Solo," the man told him with a grin. "Cozy place, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Nice," Han replied as he let his eyes wander over the sad remains of the furniture. 

"I thought your security would be better."

"Security has been following you from the first moment you left your ship," Aves explained and gestured to something behind Han. The Corellian whirled around only to find another human standing there. "Come. Karrde is waiting for you."

Aves led him to the back of the room into what had to have been Yana's office before she had been forced to leave. But the real surprise were the extensive facilities that opened up behind that office. Karrde was standing amidst a jumble of abandoned machinery and gave Han a welcoming grin.

"There you are! Good news." He waved two men forward. "These are Toss Halan and his partner Min'da Sher. They just arrived."

Han shrugged and gave the men a suspicious glare. "So? What's good about them being here?"

Talon Karrde's jovial grin faded into a knowing smile. "Yana Dar sent them. They were aboard the Executor and apparently they gave the Grand Admiral a hand in chasing Irek Ismaren off the ship."

"What!" Han felt his jaw drop. The two men shared an embarrassed look. "And what are they doing here? You said Yana sent them?" He let out a huff of relief. "So she succeeded."

"It seems so." Karrde gave Toss Halan an encouraging nod. "Why don't you tell Solo here what you told me?"

"Sure," Halan replied. "Yana will by now have made her claim official. The Empire will have a new Empress as of today."

"Wow! But what's that got to do with us?"

"Yana Dar offers a deal to your boss, the Dark Lord, as replacement for the holocron that was lost on Byss." 

Han didn't really understand what the man was talking about, but he was careful not to show his confusion. Unfortunately Halan seemed to be expecting an answer. "So, what is it?" he asked. "What does she offer?"

"Information. The Seeker-program. A gift to your boss."

Then Han got it. "My boss, eh? Why doesn't she offer it to the New Republic?"

"Beats me," Halan answered with a shrug and a smile.

Frowning at Karrde the Corellian beckoned the broker closer and drew him farther away, once he had joined him. "What do you know about this?"

"No more than you do, Solo. I have no idea what this program is supposed to do. Perhaps your 'companion' does," he added, referring to Padmé. 

"I doubt it. And what about our deal, Karrde?"

"Of course," the information broker said with a smile. "Let's get down to business."

TBC


	20. Chapter 19 - Into the Unknown

Chapter 19 – Into the Unknown

Stepping up the ramp of the shuttle that was to take him up to the New Republic Star Destroyer Freedom Anakin Skywalker felt strangely elated. They would join Needa's Second Fleet at Bilbringi before making the last leg of the voyage to Byss, and then he would travel on toward Nirauan. Finally he would be able to do something for real, instead of being constantly dependent on outside information and always keeping his fingers crossed that all players moved their pawns the way he had anticipated. The political games had ended with Yana Dar's rise to Empress, and now that Leia was about to begin negotiations on Bilbringi alongside Tomas Piett the only threat that remained was the one out of the Unknown Regions. Anakin was really looking forward to having a serious talk with Roj Kell about exactly that. And about Irek. 

Casting a sideways glance at the two women accompanying him he noted the way they were talking in hushed voices. Leia was casting him smiles and warm looks from time to time, while Roganda's face remained almost blank. There was just a hint of sad resignation he could make out in her dark eyes. She was longing to find her son again, he knew, and he dearly hoped that her wish would be granted. In that he could symathize with her, having known the agony of having loved ones apart. When she realized he was looking at her Roganda favored him with a tiny smile of her own, but averted her gaze almost instantly. He could understand her feelings. After all, had he not promised to kill her son, should it become inevitable? 

"So, how do you feel, _Ambassador_ Skywalker?" Leias asked as she hooked her arm around his and practically dragged him up the ramp with her. Throwing the Princess a somewhat surprised look her father suddenly broke into a smile.

"It is different. But this ambassador will not hold his job for long. Once we are on our way to Nirauan I will be a warlord again."

"And how do you feel about that?" she said quietly and took a seat in the passenger cabin. Anakin dropped down beside her and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I am not sure. Although I prefer action over sitting in stuffed meetings I also had hoped that the war would have ended at last."

"You are a warrior, no killer. There is nothing you have to be sorry for," his daughter told him in a gentle tone. 

"Really nothing?" Anakin smirked at her. "There is much I did in the past that I regret."

She hugged him fiercely. "But you are still a good person. People will realize that one day."

"I wish that were so. I am just glad no one seems to want to blame you for my past."

"That's because you always make sure to point it out to them that you were responsible," she murmured against his shoulder. 

"What was that?"

A bright smile lit up her face as she gazed up at him. "Nothing. I only find your resilience astounding. You do not apologize to appease people, but because you mean it. And you do not take responsibility only to earn respect, but because you are sincere. People know that. That is why they would blame no one else."

"Oh. Good." He paused. "I wish we could stop always running around and saving this galaxy."

Leia laughed out loud. "I'll join you in that!"

Joral's palace fortress on Nal Hutta was just as Telmann Page had described it to her. Wrinkling her nose delicately at the stench Padmé had to suppress an urge to walk on tiptoe. The dirt-smeared floor was sticky and rubbish seemed to litter every corner of the hallways. She was wondering in earnest how anyone could live in a place such as this by choice. Surely even Hutts must feel uncomfortable here. As her honor guard, an ill-assorted group of Gammoreans and Twi'lek, led her, Anja and Cesh Kendar toward what she supposed was the throne room Padmé put on her best face. Joral, reclining on his dais, was watching her walk closer, his huge golden eyes regarding her lazily through slitted lids. The former queen drew herself up to her small height and raised her chin, not haughtily, but self-assured. 

"Greetings, Joral" she began evenly. "I am Padmé Naberrie, Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs to the New Republic government. Thank you for seeing me."

"Be welcome, Padmé Naberrie." His voice dropped dangerously low. "I had not expected you so soon."

"Matters between the New Republic and the Empire are changing fast," she explained with a small smile. With Nar Shadaa this close she had no doubt Joral already knew of Yana's ascension. Although, she herself had heard the news only upon her arrival at Nal Hutta, from Anakin. 

"That may be as it is, but what brings you here, Padmé Naberrie?"

"A request. You were so gracious as to assure General Page of your assistance, should we require it concerning Ryloth. I would like to take you up on that offer."

"Really. Are you certain that my assistance is needed at all?"

So he knew. And he was wondering why she would come to him now that Yana was in charge of the Empire and could simply recall Antham from Ryloth. But that had not been for certain when Padmé had left Coruscant. Mon Mothma had not wanted to leave anything to chance. Had Yana lost to Tious Markhan the Hutts would have served to intimidate Antham and make him surrender his command. Now, though, Padmé's presence on Nal Hutta could serve another purpose. Byss was far away, and if the Empire retreated from Ryloth the Hutts would gladly snatch the planet up again and claim it as their own. That she was to prevent, by reminding Joral of the promise he had made, to leave Ryloth alone. And until the order from Byss that she hoped for came, the Hutts could still be used to keep Antham in check. 

"Esteemed Joral, the New Republic is ever grateful for an ally such as yourself. Your insight and wisdom are valued among the members of our government. Stability is needed, and we want to achieve that goal in this sector of this galaxy, between us, the Hutts and the Empire."

"A wise decision," the Hutt said slowly. 

Padmé smiled up at him and nodded. "I would appreciate it if you could function as intermediary between myself and Commander Antham. I doubt he will be thrilled to see me again."

"You have run into trouble with him on Ryloth?"

"One could call it that, yes," she answered smoothly, but her smile froze. On Ryloth she had come to trust Andarack clan Rim'kai, who had turned out to be an Imperial agent and who had hurt her husband. All in all her memories of the planet were anything but fond.

"Then it will be my pleasure to be of assistance."

"Your Highness, there is something else I would want to discuss with you. Something of a more private nature."

Joral waved a tiny hand at the honor guard standing at her back and they left, along with Cesh Kendar and Anja, who had had taken the protocol for this session. Alone with the Hutt at last Padmé took another step toward him. 

"What is it you wish?" he asked wearily, yet she could see the alarm in his eyes. There was something he feared she would bring up. 

"You are aware of the operation Yana Dar ran from Nar Shadaa."

"Of course."

"I would like your permission to reopen it once more."

"Under whose direction?"

"That need not concern you, Your Highness. But this has nothing to do with the New Republic."

He gave a booming laugh and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "No? In that case I would like to hear more ...."

"So what you are saying is that the Dark Lord wants to use the fringe to keep the governments in check?" Karrde was almost grinning at the Corellian seated across from him. The proposition was ludicrous, and yet – and yet it might work. 

Solo glared at him. "That's what I just said, isn't it?"

"Of course." Leaning back in his chair the information broker mused about the possibilities. With Yana Dar's network merged with his he would be able to control almost the entire flow of information. But that came at a price. He doubted that the Dark Lord intended to let him enjoy that power. On the contrary. Anyone in power could be challenged, and would be, if the rules allowed it. "An independent council? Sounds impossible to me," he said aloud, seeing Solo frown impatiently at him.

"Don't ask me how it's supposed to work. That's not my job. I'm only here to get you to listen."

"Who would supply that council? How would it be financed? What about protection?"

The former pirate gave him a leisured smile. "I see I've got you interested."

"That you have, definitely. I am intrigued. What about the lady? What is she up to with Joral?"

"She's mellowing him a bit in order to get him to see the benefits of that arrangement and agree to making it happen."

"She wants to establish an outpost on Nar Shadaa!" Suddenly it all fell into place. "That is how the council will be financed!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the Corellian said, his face blank.

"Certainly not," Karrde replied in some amusement. "If Mon Mothma finds out she will be furious."

"That's why his lordship is already on his way to Byss."

"Undoubtedly to bring Yana Dar over to his point of view. With the Princess persuading Piett and her mother working on Joral the New Republic will have no choice but to join once they are faced with the facts. A clever plan. And it might even work. And what is this business with the bounty-hunters?" 

Solo casually leaned back in his seat. "You tell me."

"Adopting your in-law's bad habits?" the broker muttered, bu there was not much rancor in his tone. "Very well. The council he wants to create will be aware of every scheme that is going on, every law that is made, every alliance that is forged, no matter how secret. That knowledge will be their protection. Competition will prevent anyone from ganging up against them, which is why the council will have representives from all governments. The bounty-hunters now, well, they are an additional source of knowledge, of a darker kind. I suppose Skywalker wants them bonded to the council?" Solo nodded with a smile. "So anyone who wants a bounty-hunter will have to hire them from the council. I also assume the council will pay the bounty-hunters more than an independent client ever could. A twisted strategy. Just like any the Dark Lord has ever come up with. But also straight forward."

"Yeah," the Corellian agreed, "he always has everyone's best interests in mind."

"Regardless to whether they want him to or not," Karrde added. "So he will rule in the end."

"No." Solo shook his head. "That's where the third force comes in. Someone has to control the council."

"And that would be who?"

"First I need to know if you are in, or if you'd rather quit before its too late."

Inhaling slowly Talon Karrde gazed at the man seated opposite from him, the earnest eyes, the expectant expression on the former pirate's face. There was a good man ruined by having been around idealists for too long. This plan was madness. If it ever succeeded it would change the face of this galaxy forever. "Why? Why does he believe all of this necessary?" he asked hoarsely, feeling intimidated by the scale of it all.

"The New Republic will form an alliance with the Chiss and the Empire to counter the forces invading the Unknown Territories. Do you know why they are doing it? To teach others a lesson. This is a warning. Anyone who threatens this alliance will be handed their heads back to them after they have had their guts ripped out of their bellies. This is not about politics, it is about survival."

Talon Karrde frowned deeply. "You are talking war, Solo. You mean anyone who dares oppose this supposed alliance gets swatted down? Sounds like tyranny to me."

"I agree." Running a hand through his brown hair the Corellian sighed. "I know it sounds bad, but what would the alternative be? This way we would have an ever-vigilant council to watch over us. They would prevent tyranny."

"And dictate what others are to do and what not?"

"They would only direct the governments, if necessary."

"That's too much power, for my taste. Sorry, Solo, but this still sounds to me as if your Dark Lord has finally decided to follow in the Emperor's footsteps."

"Not the Emperor's, I think," Solo murmured absent-mindedly. It was the defeated look on the man's face that froze the marrow in Karrde's bones. 

Something fundamental was changing, something that affected all of them. A frightening prospect, yet at the same time thrilling. If he took the offer he would charter unknown territory, would jump head-first into a scheme that would sweep the entire galaxy, if it succeeded. Should it fail, he and everyone who had worked to make it happen would perish, be destroyed. Solo was right. This was about survival, nothing else. Either way, caution would get him killed. Leaning toward the Corellian Talon Karrde extended his hand to seal the bargain. 

"I will join your cause, but only because I trust my abilities and the Dark Lord's to make this plan come to fruition."

Solo grinned at him as he clasped his hand tightly. "I knew you'd see it that way."

Wondering how Han was getting along up on the Smugglers' Moon Padmé was idly stirring the hot soup Anja had brought her for dinner. It smelled wonderful, but unfortunately it looked like the fetid swamps that ringed the palace. She could not bring herself to eat it. But it was not only the sight of this desolate landscape that had spoiled her appetite. Her son was still missing out in dangerous territory. 

When Anja stepped up to her she willed her worries away and thanked the woman for the soup, that she had not touched at all. Raising her eyebrows sceptically Anja shrugged. 

"I suppose the cook will complain to Joral about your shunning his delicacies."

"Well, I certainly would not want to inconvenience the poor creature," Padmé answered as she sat the bowl down on the window sill. She could always throw that away later. "Any news?"

"Yes." The secretary nodded. "Joral has established contact with Antham, to get a feel for the situation. Apparently Antham knew that the Republic would send someone to Nal Hutta, just in case."

"I see." Pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly Padmé sighed. "It would seem as if someone is anticipating our moves."

"Is that bad?"

"No." She smiled up at Anja. "But I wish whoever is doing this would act a bit more openly. So Commander Antham would have contacted Joral out of his own volition, am I right?"

"That's what he supposedly claimed. He has invited you to Ryloth for a meeting."

"When?"

"At your convenience."

Nodding with a grim expression on her face Padmé rose from her seat by the window. "In that case I want you to alert our escort at once. We will be leaving within the next three hours."

"Why the hurry?" Anja seemed taken aback. 

"Because the faster I can complete this mission the faster I will be home." Her eyes took on a haunted look as she thought of her son and daughter, who were both immersed deeply in another dangerous adventure. She would have loved nothing more than to accompany her husband to Nirauan, but that was impossible, she knew. But if she were on Coruscant she could at least pretend that at any time Luke, Leia or Anakin might be coming back. And there she would be at the hub of information, would have a better chance of keeping watch over her family. "We will meet with Commander Antham as soon as possible," she stated at last, then gave her aide a determined glance. "And once this situation is resolved I will see to it that the New Republic is prepared for whatever may come next."

"Han, buddy, you are even crazier than I thought," Lando Calrissian announced as he strode into the Pashey Club. He flourished his cape elegantly as he joined Karrde and Solo at the bar. The baron wore an elegantly cut black suit of some satiny fabric and a black silk cape lined with gold. Looking his friend up and down Han smirked at him knowingly.

"No ladies here to impress, Lando, and that outfit is just a bit over the top for the people we are about to meet, don't you think?"

Lando shrugged. "They might be more amendable if they believe me a witless prick. You didn't say I was to dress down when you called. And besides, who says there are no ladies among our guests?"

Throwing his hands up in resignation Han feigned an indignant sigh. "It's your life," he said at last and turned toward Karrde. The information broker was eyeing Lando calmly, as if searching his memory for something to go along with the name and face. Suddenly he smiled. 

"Ah. _that_ Lando Calrissian."

The baron gave Karrde a small bow. "At your service."

"Did you get everything I asked you for?" Han inquired quietly, trying to refocus the two men's attention on the task at hand. But he shouldn't have bothered. Both Lando and Karrde had practically grown up in the fringe, just as he had. Turning sparkling brown eyes on him Lando nodded.

"Cost me a fortune and some favors, but yeah, I got everything. What do you want with all that stuff anyway? Build up some high security prison?"

"Not really, Just keep something safe," Han retorted with a wide grin. They had to prepare everything for the arrival of the transport that would bring the Seeker-program here, to Nar Shadaa. It could not stay on the Smugglers' Moon, that much was clear, but since they did not have a real headquarters yet that was where it would need to remain for the time being. He had asked Lando to use his connections to get them the latest in security tools and as always the baron had delivered just in time. "We are going to meet them in two hours. You sure you don't wanna get changed?"

"Sure," Lando told him placidly. "How do you propose to approach this meeting? The straight-forward way?"

Han nodded. "We don't have to take unnecessary risks, but I also don't want potential allies put off by unnecessary threats."

"Threats!" Lando exclaimed. "The only ones threatened will be us!"

"Come now, Calrissian, we are far from defenseless," Talon Karrde injected. "My people are hardly novices to this kind of business."

Lando arched his brows questioningly. "Really? I don't think something like this has ever been attempted before."

"Yeah," Han retorted with a grin," but this is _us_."

After the two-day trip from Nal Hutta Padmé hesitated a bit before she took another step down the landing ramp of her shuttle, remembering all too vividly what had happened during her last visit to Ryloth. Commander Antham was waiting for her already, his hands clasped behind his back and a relaxed smile on his face. She did not like his expression at all. Once she had set foot on the hangar deck he stepped toward her and bowed deeply.

"Ambassador, an honor to see you again. Permit me to apologize for the recent quarrels between the two of us. I was somewhat confused as to where the Empire was headed."

"We all share that sentiment," Padmé told him graciously.

"Indeed we do." Straightening once more he gestured toward a trasnport, not a military one like the last time, but an open speeder. Feeling pleased the former queen joined Antham on the back-seat. "Your bodyguard is absent on this trip? Is that a good sign, then?" the commander joked, but Padmé could see the real question behind the quib. He was worried for some reason.

"Andarack clan Rim'kai has been deployed on another mission." Assassinating Irek on Franzis Sarreti's orders, as Anakin had revealed to her. She stiffened at the very thought. Imagine, if someone decided to have her children eliminated simply because of who they were, what they might do. It was unthinkable. She had agreed with Anakin when he had told her that he could not allow this senseless execution when there was still a chance to bring Irek back on track. 

Antham, who had held his silence for a while, addressed her again with an enthusiastic smile. "The Empress has announced her participation in this meeting."

"Really?" Surprised, Padmé turned her head to look at him. She could easily identify the pride shining in his eyes and she understood it well. After the weeks during which Ryloth's fate had hung in the balance Antham must have been completely on edge, never being able to determine a course of action, never able to be certain about his own directive. For a military man such as himself that must have been terrible. And now the Empress herself would join in the effort of resolving the situation on the Twi'lek homeworld! Yana Dar certainly could not have chosen a better occasion to make her debut in the political arena. Favoring Commander Antham with a nod she replied: "It is an honor."

The meeting room was actually the governor's office, a splendid chamber that had been carved into the mountain with delicate precision. The bleak walls had been painted in soothing pastel colors, and giant screens, displaying different vistas of Ryloth and Belsavis, functioned as replacements for windows. Antham motioned for Padmé to take a seat in one of the chairs ringing the holo transmission field before he chose his own place next to her. An aide was standing to attention, and at the commander's request initiated the decrypt sequence for contacting Byss. After a while an image unfolded in the transmission field, showing a bland office, and a wiry human stepped into view. His cool gray eyes seemed to cut through Padmé as he looked at her, but then he shifted his gaze toward the Imperial commander seated next to her.

"Commander Antham, I presume?"

"Yes, sir." Antham frowned a bit." Ah – Lieutenant – I – "

The stranger gave him a tight smile. "It is Counselor, now, Commander."

Heaving a relieved sigh Antham nodded. "Counselor Sarreti, I had informed Her Majesty of my upcoming meeting with Ambassador Padmé Naberrie. She had requested to be included in this meeting..."

"Of course. Ambassador, we have not yet been introduced. I am Franzis Sarreti, counselor to Her Highness, the Empress."

"I have heard a lot about you, Counselor. Mostly good," Padmé told him sweetly. "Although I question some of your methods."

"They work, Ambassador, and in some situations that is all that counts," he replied without hesitation and she could see in his eyes that this had not been a slip of the tongue but rather a deliberate statement.

"I so agree. You have been injured recently?" Arching her eyebrows she indicated the pink scar running down his left temple, and he raised a hand unconsciously before he caught himself. 

"A mark of honor received in defense of my Empress. It was nothing," he explained, and there was no trace of pride in his tone. A dangerous man.

Padmé inclined her head in recognition of his loyalty. "I am very much looking forward to meeting her at last. She has been of great assistance to my daughter in the past."

"Of course." Sarreti threw her a quick smile. "I am sorry for having delayed your meeting, Ambassador. Commander. Please have patience for a moment longer."

The Imperial crest appeared on the screen and Padmé had a hard time hiding her dark thoughts. She did not like Franzis Sarreti at all. He was ruthless and seemed fervent in the pursuit of his duties. Why else would he have delayed them if not to get a first glance at the ambassador the Empress personally wished to talk to? Of course she knew that it had been Sarreti who had made Yana's ascension possible at all, but he seemed loath to let go of that responsibility. 

Once the still image dissolved again Padmé almost jumped at the sight greeting them. It was not a life-size hologram, but an enlarged image of the Empress' head and torso. Looming over both Antham and Padmé Yana Dar regarded them with a measuring look. Her blue eyes, large and clear, had the piercing quality of her father's gaze. Padmé shuddered inwardly. She had been wondering, just as about half of the New Republic government, why Yana Dar played so crucial a part in Tious Markhan's scheme. Now she knew. Yana Dar was Palpatine's daughter. Clad completely in black she gave the impression of mourning, not the dark power the late Emperor had exuded. Yet the strength in her stance was unmistakable. 

"Ambassador, it is an honor to meet you at last," the Empress began, and a small smile appeared on her lips. "Commander Antham, I must thank you for your dilligent effort in bringing the situation on Ryloth to my attention. Your sense of duty is commendable."

Padmé did not need to look at the commander to know that he must be beaming with pride. "Your Majesty, it is also an honor for me to make your acquaintance at last. And for having agreed to seeing my husband on Byss," she said, drawing Yana Dar's attention back on herself.

"His business does not concern Ryloth," the Empress reminded her with a cool smile. "And as I understand it the New Republic quite unscrupulously took advantage of diplomatic privilege to gather intelligence on Imperial activities on Ryloth."

Padmé couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Your Majesty, the evidence gathered on that trip clearly proves that the occupation of Ryloth is illegal!" she exclaimed.

"I never implied anything else, Ambassador. Yet you must also permit me to weigh our actions with equal measures. I am also aware of the fact that the New Republic has not, in fact, made this evidence public."

Her outrage dissolving into surprise Padmé opened her mouth to reply, then changed what she had wanted to say once more. "The New Republic is also aware of what difficulties you had to overcome to make your claim official. We recognize your intentions as a sign for a new beginning, but our keeping this specific evidence under lock and file as of yet is no more than a gesture of good will on our part."

"I understand. Yet neither your government nor mine can ignore the threats that concern all of us. In regard to this Ryloth is, forgive me for saying so, Commander, a mere speck of dirt marring the overall harmonic picture of our beautiful galaxy. The Empire has no interest in endangering its survival for the sake of petty powerplays my predecessor thought to play."

"A wise decision, Your Majesty. Then Ryloth and Belsavis will be granted independent status?"

Yana Dar nodded gravely. "Internal struggles have to be resolved or suspended until the threat from the Unknown Regions has been eliminated."

"I am very pleased that this problem could be solved to our mutual benefit," Padmé answered gently. "The New Republic is looking forward to working more closely with the Empire in the near future." And for once she had a good feeling about this.

Out in the Unknown Territories Luke Skywalker had problems of his own to deal with. The scout party under Al'than'erudo's command had been skimming low above the roiling surface of Kynda'bey's Southern ocean and the peaceful, steady beep of his onboard sensor equipment had lulled the young Jedi into a sense of boredom and false security that had cost him a precious split-second when the enemy had decided to attack. Now, dodging what seemed to be a sort of glowing plasma shot at his ship, Luke was fully focused on the battle and on the commander's orders. 

"Blue two, bank left," came the Chiss' calm voice and Luke complied grudgingly, even though he was sure that this would hamper Al'than'erudo's own maneuverability. They were too close together, wingtips almost touching, to react properly to the enemy fire. But he had agreed to fly under the man's command, so he would obey his orders too. After all, Al'than'erduo knew the Unknown Regions and their worlds far better than he did. 

Watching his radar warily he frowned at the trio of enemy fighters that was constantly gaining on the two Chiss scout-craft. Where was the rest of their flight? Edging even closer toward Luke's tiny ship the commander let his own craft drop away underneath the other ship's belly. 

"Stay on course, Blue Two."

"What the hell are you doing?" Luke demanded.

"Following my advice," another voice explained with a chuckle. Luke's jaw dropped.

"Nuron! This was your idea? Are you crazy?"

The Zabrak let out a low growl of annoyance. "Shut up and concentrate on flying," she admonished him. "Blue Lead, drop another meter. They have taken the bait."

"Nuron, where the hell are you?" Luke shouted over the comm. He could not find her on the radar and he could not see her anywhere close. And he got very worried over that.

"Blue Two, pull up!" she yelled suddenly and Luke yanked at the joystick hard. The scout-ship dove into the sky and his radar showed him that one of the enemy fighters was following, while the other two were still hounding Al'than'erudo's craft. Suddenly that pair seemed to vanish in a small typhoon. 

"Whoa!" Luke called out when another craft broke from the ocean and started spewing laser-bolts at the belly of the enemy ship that was trailing the young Jedi. It had to be Nuron. A few seconds later something huge emerged from beneath the surface and a giant maw opened underneath the pair of ships chasing the commander. The thing was barely visible, its body seemingly part of the ocean and Luke knew immediately what it was. Mahsenda. Behind him his pursuer died a fiery death as his ship broke apart under Nuron's steady fire. 

She drew level with Luke and her laughter warmed his heart as it came over the comm, clear and full of triumph. "That was fun!" she exclaimed.

"Blue Two and Three check in."

"We're still here, Commander!" the Zabrak yelled and Luke could sense her exhiliaration and pure joy of being alive. 

"That's something, at least. They surprised us."

"What?" Luke stared wonderingly at his radar. Indeed, of the Chiss flight only the three of them had survived the attack. His stomach congealed into a tight knot, when he noticed more enemy fighters coming their way. "Let's get out of here," he whispered. 

"We can't," Commander Al'than'erudo said in a maddeningly calm tone, his voice sounding

almost mechanical. "Capital ship starboard, launching more fighters. We have a dozen on our tails and we can't even use the ocean as camouflage because Nuron has drawn the Mahsenda's attention on us."

"So what are we gonna do?" Luke asked, feeling strangely fatalistic.

"We go and hide. Follow my lead."

The commander drew his scout-ship into a wide arc, with Luke and Nuron following close behind. As they accelerated the enemy fighters picked up speed evenly, keeping pace with their prey.

"They are gaining," Luke stated at last. "Why can't we go faster?"

"Thermal currents, Master Skywalker," Al'than'erudo explained. "We are closing in on the coast. Hit it too hard and the winds will crush your ship just like that." And with those words the commander let his craft shoot toward the distant coastline, a maneuver designed to fool the enemy into taking up the pursuit. They had to believe that their quarry was trying to reach the coast, perhaps to get into safety. Therefore they would try to catch them before they could make it that far. "Triangle formation. Be prepared to hit the brakes hard."

"Sure thing, Commander," Nuron breathed. 

Up ahead black cliffs rose into the sky and as they became ever taller Luke could make out small cracks and crevices in the stone. Perhaps they could hide there...

Al'than'erudo's voice interrupted that thought harshly. "Evasive! Watch your backs!"

Luke let the ship perform a 180 degree turn and dove toward the ocean's surface once more. At the lowest point of his dive he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Concealed almost completely by the wave formation a darker shape was rising up, rapidly closing in on the surface. Frantically trying to speed up his ship Luke watched the Mahsenda propel its heavy bulk toward him, maw gaping open as it lifted out of the water. 

"Luke!" he heard Nuron yell just as her ship came to his rescue, pelleting the sea monster with laser bolts. The Mahsenda shook itself and let out a roar that reverbrated through Luke's entire body. But it fell back again, retreating into the safety of the ocean. The young Jedi drew a deep breath.

"Did it work?" he asked at last, referring to their pursuers' fate.

"Yes. Luke, don't you ever scare me like this again!"

"I'll try," he answered sheepishly, but a smile was creeping onto his lips. It had been far too long since he had flown in combat and it was good to feel the thrill again.

"When you two are done you might want to get out of trouble before trouble gets to us," the voice of commander Al'than'erudo told them placidly. "Just head my way and keep coming, no matter what happens. I have a feeling we've stumbled across something big here."

When he felt two familiar presences at the edges of his awareness Chi'in at first was too stunned to think of trying to contact them. Additionally he felt numbed by the extended torture and new impressions he had had to process over the past days of his captivity. It was as if an invisible shield was protecting his mind from going insane, but it also shielded him against rash emotions, making it impossible for him to react in time. He recognized the signs, knew them to be sure indicators of extensive injuries of both body and spirit. The stress was getting to him, despite his efforts, and he had a feeling that his upcoming meeting with the Yuuzhan Vong war coordinator would be anything but glorious. He needed rest badly.

Yet he tried to reach out, tried to establish contact with Luke and Nuron as they sped across his inner vision, sharp eddies in the flow of the Force, They kept slipping away from his grasp, and his mind seemed to have developed a protective will of its own and dilligently prevented him from overexerting his powers. It was hopeless. Observing them from a distance he managed a sad smile as they seemingly escaped pursuit by enemy fighters, 

and he felt some pride in the young warriors. Their being here, though, was an unfortunate incident. If the war coordinator was smart he would not let anyone get even a whiff of where he was hiding. Therefore every effort would go into hunting those intruders down and 

destroying everyone who knew about their presence on this world. Luke and Nuron would have to be extremely careful now.

The three scout-ships were nestled in a small cave a few miles from the coastline and harsh winds were howling outside their little hiding place. The air was clammy, moist and salty, and smelling heavily of the ocean. It was unlike anything Luke had ever experienced before. Standing at the entrance to the cave wrapped in a thermo-blanket he was staring up at the gray sky with his mouth hanging open. There was something about this world, a feeling that made him itch with excitement somehow. Strange.

"Master Skywalker, I would appreciate it if you would join us again. If they have heat detectors they can find us easily with you standing in the open like that."

With a sigh Luke turned around and picked his way through a course of craggy, fist-sized rocks toward where Nuron and Al'than'erudo were huddled in a corner of the cave. He plopped down next to the Zabrak, who lay her arms around his neck immediately to cuddle against him for warmth and comfort. The young Jedi had a hard time suppressing a triumphant smile at the look the Chiss commander threw them. 

"What happened with those ships back out on the ocean?" Nuron asked suddenly. "They seemed to draw the water to themselves somehow." 

"Gravitational anomalies. They use them to shield their ships, perhaps even for propulsion," Al'than'erudo explained. "There is a lot we don't know about them yet."

"Like miniature black holes?" Luke asked, astounded.

"Something like that, yes."

"So, if we could invert those gravitational anomalies, as you call them, they would destroy the ships themselves."

The Chiss favored him with a surprised smile. "Yes. That is a good idea. But how to achieve it?"

The Jedi frowned in thought. "I don't know yet. They are vulnerable, though, especially the belly, isn't that so?"

"Yes. Probably it would be too dangerous to have those anomalies all over the hull, lest they interfere with one another."

"Exactly. Chi'in said the ships are semi-sentient..."

"I would not know about that. I suppose except for Master Chi'in no one has ever come close enough to those aliens to know for sure," the Chiss said with a shrug.

"You can't just go and try to influence the ships' awareness," Nuron murmured against Luke's shoulder quietly. "That would be coercion. Dark Side technique."

"Thanks for reminding me," he whispered back and placed a kiss on her forehead. "So, what do you two suggest?"

The commander's glowing eyes seemed to blaze even more fiercely as he shook his head in a rare show of temperament. "I believe the presence of a capital ship in this vicinity means they have a base close by. Perhaps even on this planet. Therefore I will have to order the rest of our scout team to retreat and report to Syndic Ech'an'dana. I do not doubt that he will bring the entire battle-group here and by the time they arrive I want to have some useful information."

"Just the three of us?" Nuron asked doubtfully.

"Obvioulsy not. One of us has to warn the rest of our fleet," the Chiss replied coolly. 

"One single scout-craft could never survive this trip." Frowning at the commander suspiciously the Zabrak tightened her grip on Luke's shoulders.

"I am still taking that risk, and it'll have to suffice. We have no other choice," Al'than'erudo insisted.

"There is something else," Luke injected quietly. Golden and red eyes turned on him. "There is a feel in the Force here, something exhiliarating. Nuron, if you focus deeply enough you will feel it too."

Closing her eyes immediately she complied, and Luke could sense her presence even more acutely than before, a vibrant flame in the fire of the Force. She reopened her eyes with a loud gasp and a look of wonder lit up her beautiful face as she gazed up at him. "You are right," she breathed. "There is something here." She smiled impishly as she drew his head closer toward her mouth and whispered. "And someone. Didn't you feel it? It's Chi'in!"

Luke's jaw dropped. "Chi'in? Are you certain?"

She took his hand in hers gently, her cool fingers feeling incredibly good against his skin and lay his palm over her heart. "Here. Listen," she ordered softly, her golden eyes taking on a dreamy look. Luke felt entranced by the peaceful expression on her face. and it helped him relax and surrender his mind to hers so she could help him see. His connection to the Noghri had never been as tight as hers, and had he not known that Chi'in was no more than her dearest friend he would have been quite jealous of the short warrior. What he could sense from her as she concentrated all her being on finding Chi'in was fond love, admiration and worry. A faint echo of those feelings resounded throughout his mind, a beacon that led him 

to the Noghri's presence. Despite the joy he felt at having found their friend again Luke groaned softly at what else he could pick up from Chi'in.

"He's been hurt badly."

Nuron shuddered quietly and her golden eyes seemed troubled. "If he betrays the base's defenses they can wipe them out with ease. Not to mention the Chiss. Chi'in has gotten past their perimeter forts once before."

"But they have already destroyed those," Luke reminded her. "Well, some."

A rustle of clothes brought their attention back on the third member of their little team. Commander Al'than'erudo had risen from his seat on the ground and joined them. He was leaning toward them with an intent expression on his handsome features, and his unsettling gaze bored into them mercilessly. "They are torturing him, undoubtedly. And Nuron Sarin is right. If he talks, we are lost." Straightening to his full height Al'than'erudo gazed at the three ships resting at the cave entrance pensively. "Very well. I will take my ship and attempt to get this location back to Syndic Ech'an'dana. The two of you will track down Master Chi'in and, if necessary, eliminate him. We cannot take the risk of his betraying us, even involuntarily."

Luke wanted to protest, but Nuron lay a cautioning finger across his lips as she turned to face the commander once more: "What if he has talked already?"

"I leave that decision to you. Once night falls I will go. You have until then to prepare your mission."

TBC

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Author's Note:

Thanks for all the feedback to my (anonymous) readers.** J **


	21. Chapter 20 - The Edge of Madness

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Chapter 20 – The Edge of Madness

Fahl Dan seemed strangely agitated when he escorted his prisoner toward what Chi'in believed to be the exit hatch. The ship's interior was fascinating, even to the Noghri's weakened mind. He wondered what the Grand Admiral would say to the intricate patterns of coral shell that covered the walls. Art, or natural design? Shaking off those distracting thoughts the Sith Lord focused his attention on his surroundings once more when Fahl Dan pushed him forward and he stumbled own onto a rough rock ledge. Chi'in fell to his knees in a tangled heap of limbs gone numb with exhaustion, but he breathed the fresh air deeply, such a contrast to the stench of the ship itself. Over his head a wide, gray sky stretched away into infinity and down below an ocean spread out as far as the eye could see. All Chi'in could think of was: prison. There was no escape from a world such as this if any transport was in the hands of enemies. 

"The war master is waiting for us," Fahl Dan explained to him and gestured toward a pair of towering warriors who immediately went forward to haul the Noghri to his feet. 

War master? Hadn't he told him they were going to see the war _coordinator_? The difference seemed important, and it put Chi'in in a thoughtful mood. Being dragged toward what looked to be a grotto of some sort he arched his brow in confusion as he was led toward the small pool of salt-water that connected the cave to the ocean. Behind him he heard Fahl Dan exchange some words with the others in their native tongue and a moment later one of the warriors holding on to the Noghri grabbed the Sith's jaws to open his mouth. Jerking back in surprise Chi'in pushed at the creature with the Force, but it had no effect whatsoever. Unpertubed by his prisoner's weak struggle the warrior held something over his lips, and Chi'in gagged instinctively when the thing came alive and tried to wriggle its way down his throat. 

"It will help you breathe under water," Fahl Dan explained to the disgusted Noghri, while a thick tube went down his throat. Gagging at the unwelcome intrusion he shook his head, but to no avail. Once the creature was secured tightly over his snout he noticed that the Yuuzhan Vong already wore mates of the thing over their own faces. 

Fahl Dan took the lead again and waded out into the pool, sending tiny ripples across the surface to the other side of the cave. For some reason Chi'in found himself thinking of predators. And as he was hauled after the warrior he could almost see them before his inner eye. They were huge, elegant, self-assured and they were looking forward to a little evening snack. Then one of the Yuuzhan Vong holding him dunked his head under water and all he could do was hang helplessly in the warrior's grip as they began the long dive down.

Han was walking with his right hand hoverig above his blaster and his eyes constantly searching the shadows. At his side Lando was seemingly completely at ease, and Talon Karrde was watching both the baron and the Corellian with a faint smile on his lips. Han knew, of course, that Karrde's men were following the trio, but he would rather trust his own reflexes and skills than someone else's. Especially when the people they were going to meet would also have sentinels out to secure the area. The meeting with Boba Fett had not been difficult to arrange for a man with Karrde's connections and with Joral backing their claim. Still, Han felt like a bantha cub about to stumble into a krayt dragon's lair. The clanking of the three men's boots echoed faintly in the distance and Han jumped, when one of the shadows by the wall moved toward them. He brought his blaster out of its holster in one fluid move when Karrde slapped his hand down again and the shadow turned out to be Aves.

"Everything's clear, boss."

"Thank you. Solo, I would appreciate it if you could shed some of your nervousness," the information broker told him coolly. Han growled something under his breath that he'd rather not say aloud. Lando was grinning at him and clapped a hand on his shoulder in empathy. 

"They are waiting for us, and they've brought who you asked for," Aves continued with a nod aimed at the Corellian.

"Great," Han replied quietly. With Irek Ismaren running around loose out there they could use any help they could get. And Fett had brought Nasdra Magrody here, after he had kidnapped him from Yaga Minor. Han assumed that the bounty-hunter had acted on Sarreti's orders too, just like Joral. That man really had his hands in every scheme that was currently being played. 

They followed Aves into a side corridor and some sort of shop, abandoned by the previous owner, the Corellian guessed. A tall Barabel stepped out of a door, wearing an armored suit and carrying a heavy blaster rifle in its paws. It growled something at Aves, who nodded.

"This is O'kla'mey. She's my contact," he explained, and Han gave Lando a deliberate look that took in his fancy clothes pointedly. The baron, though, gave his cape an elegant flourish and executed a perfect bow in front of the alien female, who grunted in surprise. 

"My dear O'kla'mey, it is a pleasure to get to know you. I have heard such a lot about your exploits, namely the Du'je affair on Rimmnil. Excellent work."

Han stared, and the alien's eyes widened in surprise. She murmured something at Lando, for all the world sounding slightly embarrassed by his praise and Aves elbowed the Corellian in the side with a grin. "He's a smooth one, isn't he?" the man sniggered. And Karrde was watching everything with that unwavering smile on his face. 

Then O'kla'mey led them deeper into the building and they huried after her. Han caught up with Lando in a few quick strides. "You didn't tell me you knew her!"

The baron shrugged. "You never asked. Besides, I didn't know she was Aves' contact either."

The bounty-hunters had chosen one of the larger storage rooms for the meeting, and Han could not shed that uncomfortable feeling he always had when beng cooped up in a room with a lot of armed strangers. Boba Fett was leaning against the back wall nonchalantly, and only a few of the hunters were seated at all. They were professionals, after all. Fett gave Han and Lando a careful nod, before he detached from the wall and walked toward them.

"As you know, we do not usually make business this way," the man began. "But your offer sounds intriguing. What's the catch?"

"Catch? There is no catch," Lando explained, throwing his arms wide in mock indignation. "You'd have the same job you've had before, better pay, better information."

"Boring," one of the other hunters growled. "No thrill in being a clerk for someone. That's assassin's business."

"You'll find that any assassin would disagree."

"It would make some sort of police-force of us," Boba Fett replied quietly. "Most of us try to avoid being exactly that."

"No one would be forced to join, but, of course, you would enjoy certain privileges."

"Privileges?" Fett snorted. "We do not need those. Any of us could have joined any petty private army as mercenary. None did. Because we value our indepenence."

"Excuse me, but not a minute ago you claimed the offer was intriguing. If you don't want a deal, why are you here?" Lando countered.

O'kla'mey growled something and a few bounty-hunters laughed aloung with her, while the baron seemed slightly flustered. Han wondered what she had said. 

"She said she wouldn't be adverse to dealing with Baron Calrissian," a weary voice said in the Corellian's ear. Han jerked around to face Nasdra Magrody. The old man really did look tired. "I was told you'd come here to get me. I would really appreciate that. They are nice enough chaps, but somewhat unsettling too," the scientist continued.

"Whatever else happens, you are coming with us," Han promised. "Irek escaped. We need your help."

"I felt it."

The Corellian frowned. He remembered that Leia had told him Magrody was Force-sensitive, but he had been under the impression that he had not been trained properly. "How?" he asked.

"There's always a special bond that connects mentor and student. I've known him since he was little."

Han's eyes widened as revelation hit him. "What?" he hissed. "But that means he can find you too!" Raising his voice to be heard over the discussion that was taking place between Lando and the bounty-hunters he shouted. "Hey! We got a problem here!"

He could feel him close by, a presence he knew all too well, that placid mind that could erupt into fireworks of activity if challenged. Nasdra Magrody. Frowning darkly at the shadows ahead the youth crept along the dirty walls of the upper balcony. Erinin had taught him that the best way to take a prey was by surprise. A low growl rose from the back of his throat. Erinin had deceived him. Everyone had. But he was not their play-thing! He would show them that he was in control of his fate! 

By now he could hear voices from below, and he took a cautious step into the next room, his senses sharp and alert. Yet he almost noticed the alien presence too late. The Weequay charged at him out of a corner, swinging his blaster-rifle around in a forceful move, but Irek was faster. His hands shot out toward the towering alien and blue lightning poured over the creature's heavily muscled body, making him twitch in agony and confusion. It was a silent death, and that suited Irek very well. 

Stepping over the still body he nodded to himself in grim satisfaction. None of the beings assembled here were a match for his abilities. The door opposite from the balcony led onto a gallery and Irek carefully made his way down toward the lower level. Then he heard someone shout, and knew he had been betrayed. Again. Blind rage filled his mind as he pictured his quarry getting away. No! Magrody would pay for what he had done to him! He would pay dearly.

Nasdra Magrody vanished in a red mist of atomized bodyparts. Eyes wide, Talon Karrde watched as Solo was thrown back hard when the shockwave passed him, and he did not even have time to scream out his horror before a black-clad figure darted past with a drawn-out howl of pure rage. In an instant the room came alive with blaster fire and loud curses and shouts. Chaos broke out. Across the room the Corellian ducked low, drawing his blaster. Karrde followed his line of sight and thought he could see the stranger duck through another door. Ismaren. That had to have been him.

"Hold fire!" a mechanized voice called out and immediately the stutter of weapon's fire ceased. "Solo!"

Turning his head the Corellian rose from his half-crouch. "Yeah? What!" he asked Boba Fett, who stood in the midst of the bounty-hunters, his armor gleaming in the artificial light. Solo tried to wipe Magrody's bodily fluids from his face and neck. 

"Who was that?" Boba Fett asked coldly.

"A mad darksider."

Nodding sharply the bounty-hunter disengaged from the crowd. "I don't really care for the old man, but if working for your boss is only half as challenging I might agree to your deal."

Solo gave the man a hard look. "The boy is dangerous. He's powerful and he's desperate." Karrde found himself nodding in agreement.

"I have dealt with his kind before," the bounty-hunter said softly. The information broker's frown deepened. There was something more here than he could fathom. Fett sounded almost wistful. An intriguing discovery and worth some research.

"You're in." The Corellian surveyed the rest of the hunters critically. "I suggest we spread out. Be careful when you engage him. You saw what happened to the professor. But we want him alive. Keep that in mind."

"Alive? Are you mad?" someone shouted.

"Boss' orders. If you wanna go against him, by all means, do, but I promise he won't be as quick and messy about it as that boy," Han retorted nastily. The protester nodded numbly. 

"You heard the man!" Fett called out. "Let's go."

Talon Karrde still stood rooted in place, when the bounty-hunters started filing out of the room. Joining him, Aves gazed at the departing crowd pensively.

"What are we gonna do, boss?"

"I believe things on Nar Shadaa will get pretty interesting. And I also believe Solo and Fett can handle this on their own. Our business here is finished." He gave his second a hard look. "And we have yet to prepare everything for the Seeker-program. Come."

They followed slowly in the bounty-hunters' wake and as they stepped out of the building the rest of his men left their respective hiding places and formed a protctive phalanx around himself and Aves. One of the men sidled closer.

"He's been injured," he told Karrde softly.

"Is that a fact?"

"Well, it was dark, but he was running kinda hunched over."

"Thank you. You told Solo and Fett?"

"Should I have?"

Karrde sighed. "Well. I suppose they'll find out soon enough."

Irek leaned against the corridor wall, exhausted. Using his power always drained him of energy, but this time it had been worth it. His eyes were gleaming feverishly in remembrance of the glorious feeling that had taken his heart-ache away for a while. Sensing Magrody's death had been elating. Such a brief moment and yet so sweet ... A jolt of pain brought him back into the presence. One of those cursed bounty-hunters had managed to catch him off-guard. The broad-bladed knife that had gotten stuck in his left thigh was now tucked behind his belt, and he had tried to stop the bleeding with a make-shift bandage, but it had not worked. He must be doing something wrong, but he felt too dizzy to find out what exactly that was.

A soft click brought his head around and he frowned at the figure standing not far off. At first he thought it was a child who had gotten lost somehow, but then he became aware of the powerful presence hiding behind the deep hood shadowing the short figure's face. Pushing himself away from the wall Irek frowned.

"Who are you?" he called out hoarsely. The stranger did not answer. Stalking toward him soundlessly, he pushed back the hood of his cloak and Irek almost gasped at the sight of the nightmarish face revealed there. But then he laughed, to disguise his uneasiness. "Let's see if I can make pretty fireworks out of you too, Ugly," he sneered. But before he could summon the rage that usually fueled his power the stranger struck out at him. Irek's throat constricted inexplicably, and he gasped for air desperately as he clawed at his own neck to get rid of the invisible collar that was choking him. Fear surged through his mind and let him lash out in desperation. Suddenly the collar vanished and he dropped to his knees, inhaling deeply. 

"You are powerful," the nightmarish stranger stated calmly. Looking up, Irek saw the alien stand above him. He did not seem frightened at all. But he should be, shouldn't he? Growling softly, the boy tried to rise, but his left leg refused to cooperate. The alien chuckled softly. "But not smart enough," he added in a low whisper.

Irek threw his arms across his eyes as a blinding white light swallowed the alien whole. For a moment hope blossomed in his mind. Perhaps the thing had vanished. But then strong hands clasped around his neck, ready to snap his windpipe. Throwing himself back Irek sought to struggle out of the alien's grip, but the other moved like a snake. Again fear filled his very being with a blackness that was suffocating and needed to be released before it could crush him. This time his attacker yelled a curse as he let go of Irek again. Triumphant, Irek staggered to his feet and turned to face the short alien. Suddenly a sharp pain lanced through his left shoulder and his gaze dropped down to see a long metal projectile potrude from his flesh. He almost fained when an electric current hit him, numbing the entire left half of his body. He keeled over and fell to the floor with an agonised grunt.

"Andarack!" Running even faster Han closed in on the Noghri warrior before he could finish Irek, who lay helplessly on the ground. Behind him Boba Fett was drawing level with his quarry, another bolt knocked already on his cross-bow. Those things were connected to the bounty-hunter's backpack through a lead line, and apparently they really came as a shock to the victim. Han skidded to a halt in front of the Sith and decided that this intervention might not have been such a smart idea after all. Large, black eyes were gazing at him unblinking. 

"Leave now and I will let you live," Andarack told him coldly. 

"The Dark Lord wants him alive, and so does the Empress," Han explained hastily. "Have you checked back with you boss lately?" 

Now the Noghri seemed just a little bit uncertain. "Alive? But my orders –"

"Forget about them!" the Corellian snapped, then tempered his tone somewhat. "Come on, leave over."

Drawing himself up to his slim height the wiry alien regarded him calmly for a while. "I will ascertain this."

"Please do," Han retorted acidly. In an instant Andarack darted past him and the Corellian, totally surprised, tried to get a grip on the small alien, but caught only air. As he turned toward Andarack he saw that Irek had sat up again. Blue eyes wide the boy wore a horrified expression on his face. The reason for that seemed clear, since the bounty-hunter, who had cautiously retreated a few steps, was calmly working the voltage controls of the metal crossbow bolts, two of which were now lodged in the young man's flesh, one in his left shoulder, the other in his right arm. Just then the Noghri impacted against the bounty-hunter's armored form, wrenching the crossbow from his hands and disconnecting the leads to the projectiles in the process. 

"Fool!" the short warrior roared. Then he whirled toward Irek, who rose from the floor jerkily. Han felt his skin crawl when the boy turned toward the Noghri ever so slowly, blue sparks of electricity running through his black hair and crackling along the folds of his clothes. He understood in an instant that the bounty-hunter had inadvertedly been feeding power to the young darksider, instead of incapacitating him. 

Andarack did not wait for Irek to unleash the power he was building up. Jumping high he pivoted in mid-air and brougth his arms around to hit the other's head hard in rapid succession. Irek fell back, momentarily distracted, and the Noghri moved back in relentlessly. 

But then the tide turned in a shocking instant. Han felt as if hit by some invisible hammer as a sort of force-field crashed against him and swept his feet out from under him. A loud clatter told him that Boba Fett had possibly impacted against the wall somewhere. Suddenly Irek was looming over him, a wild fire dancing in his eyes. Grabbing hold of the Corellian's collar the boy started shaking him effortlessly, as if he were a mere ragdoll. His touch was pure agony. Han bit down a cry of pain, trying to refocus his senses, but it was hopeless.

"My mother," Irek hissed. "Where is she? And Yana Dar? Where are they hiding?" The sheer menace in his voice was enough to freeze the Corellian's lungs. 

"Byss," he managed at last. 

Letting go of him instantly Irek turned away to leave. Just then a small shadow flitted toward him and Irek managed to duck just in time before a knife shot through the space his head had previously occupied. He raised a hand and casually batted the attacking Noghri aside. Andarack hit the floor hard and Han could hear bones snap from where he was lying on his side. 

Then it was over, and Irek was gone.

"Quite a handful," Boba Fett commented quietly as he stepped up next to the Corellian and helped him rise again. 

"I thought you said you have dealt with his kind before!" Han said accusingly. The sound of running feet could be heard and then Lando and a few of the bounty-hunters came into view. 

The baron surveyed the scene with a frown on his face.

"Did he get away?"

"What do _you_ think?" Han growled as he walked over toward where Andarack was struggling into an upright position. Han's body was aching all over and he winced at every step he took. Damn those cursed Sith! Dropping down next to the Noghri he heaved a sigh. The short warrior's breathing was shallow, but his dark eyes were alert and regarded the Corellian calmly. "Well," Han stated resignedly, "now you've really made him mad."

"What are we going to do?" Lando asked quietly from behind him.

"I suppose we'll tell Her Highness and then leave for Bilbringi. If Irek wants to go hunting he might try to get at Leia again. I won't let that happen. Never."

Luke was preparing their backpacks for the trip into the bowels of Kynda'bey while Nuron received last instructions from Al'than'erudo. The Chiss was standing next to his ship and his bearing seemed strangely timid. Trying not to give in to his desire to listen in on their conversation Luke still had a sharp eye on them. Therefore, when Nuron went forward to hug the commander, the young Jedi shot to his feet instantly and had taken two angry steps toward them before the Zabrak went to meet him and Al'than'erudo popped open the entry hatch to his ship's cockpit and settled himself into the pilot's seat. Nuron joined her lover with a smile and slipped an arm around his waist possessively.

"What was that supposed to be?" Luke asked over the roar of the scout craft's engines.

"What?" 

"I said – " stopping himself Luke resolved to wait with his question until it was a bit quieter. 

"I hope he gets away!" Nuron shouted just then and her words drove a spike of jealousy through the young Jedi's heart. 

The scout craft vanished in the darkness and the sound of its engines grew more distant by the minute. Disengaging from Luke again Nuron went to shoulder her backpack. He stood watching her, undecided and feeling hurt. "What was that back there?" he asked, his voice full of anger.

Golden eyes locked on his face and the Zabrak smiled. "He told me he did not want to leave without telling me what a great woman he thinks me to be. I said I belong to you. He understands."

"Oh?" Folding his arms across his chest Luke was the epitome of wounded pride and helplessness. "Oh? And that was all, was it? And that was why you had to go and hug him!"

"Commander Al'than'erudo is a good man," she admonished him, "a good comerade. That is all, Luke. And now he's gone, and he is probably going to die. No need for you to worry any longer." Handing him his backpack Nuron arched her brows encouragingly. "Luke. Please. Trust me."

He snatched the pack from her hands and stalked past her with a growled "I'll try."

The trip to the surface proved treacherous, because they had to pick their way along the face of the cliff up toward the ledge. The wind was batting at them mercilessly and the only illumination they had was the light of Kynda'bey's twin moons. 

__

Laa'kuan. Melyash. 

Luke jerked in surprise. "Did you hear that?" he asked softly.

"Hear what?" Nuron asked right back. 

"I thought I heard – " he shook his head. "It was strange. I thought I heard someone name the moons." He pointed at the sky. "Laa'kuan and Melyash."

Nuron froze. "I have heard that before," she whispered, her golden eyes wide as they caught the light.

"What? Where?" Laying his hands on her shoulders urgently Luke stood bristling with excitement. 

"An exercise, Prayer and Answer. Lord Kell called it laa'kuan ghi melyash." 

Luke stared. "An exercise?"

She nodded emphatically. "It serves to focus one's senses, to achieve calm."

"Balance," Luke supplied. Again, she nodded. "Chi'in said the Jem'luz were connected to Kell. Their homeworld is not far away. Could it be one of the moons?" Frantically he tried to order his thoughts and remember the data Al'than'erudo had given him. Then he pointed at the left moon. "This one. Laa'kuan. That's the world."

"Are you sure?"

"Focus on the left one. You will find that the right will provide an echo. Prayer and Answer. See?"

Nuron kept silent for a while. Then she turned startled eyes on him once more. "This is incredible. The entire sector is teeming with the Force."

"A focal point, Chi'in said, like the Massassi temples on Yavin 4."

The Zabrak grabbed his arm and started dragging him onward. "Come. No matter what, we need Chi'in alive. He knows too much, and we need that knowledge now."

Luke could only agree.

Chi'in was fairly exhausted by the time they had arrived at their final destination. It was a large grotto, deep underneath the planet's central continent, and more Yuuzhan Vong were assembled there, hundreds, he thought, maybe thousands. Fahl Dan hoisted the short warrior out of the water by the scruff of his neck unceremoniously, and Chi'in jerked his arm out of the Yuuzhan Vong's grip once his feet found solid purchase again. Holding his head high he surveyed the grotto critically. None of the aliens assembled here registered with his Force senses, yet the creature that occupied the large pool of brake water in the middle of the giant chamber was like a conflagration to the Noghri's mind. It was huge, and its black eyes regarded him with undisguised interest. Chi'in supposed it was somehow connected to the Force, or perhaps a powerful telepath, but he could feel its scrutiny clearly, probing at his mental shields carefully, as if testing their limits.

He could sense the creature's satisfaction and then an echo of pride. Keeping his features calm the Noghri tried to gather what was going on. Apparently the Yuuzhan Vong communicated with this creature telepathically. That was why he could feel anything at all. He wondered at that. Suddenly Fahl Dan pushed him forward, and Chi'in stumbled to the edge of the pool on weak legs. 

The giant creature raised equally huge tentacles out of the water and extended them toward him slowly. He froze. What would happen if that thing touched him? Something reached him then. Looking into the creature's eyes he found the siren call compelling, peaceful even. Chi'in shuddered involuntarily when the tip of one of the tentacles caressed the back of his head, yet he was also acutely aware of the danger. Never before had he dealt with a mind as expansive, as powerful. His mental shields seemed flimsy and all too vulnerable by comparison, and again doubt started eating at his confidence. He thought of the base at Nirauan, dependent on his keeping silent, his friends. It all seemed too much. 

Very abruptly Chi'in understood that the creature was magnifying his own feelings, using them against him. Taking a slow breath he drew back into his own mind, retreating carefully. The creature followed. As he had expected none of his defenses were a match for this thing's mental abilities. His doubts increased a hundredfold. He could not win this. There was no way he would escape the scrutiny of the war coordinator. His friends were lost, the base, everything. 

Chi'in was fighting his own emotions as best as he could, but he was also very certain that he was losing. As a warrior, he knew the price of defeat intimately, and as a Noghri hunter, he realized that he had been caught by a most cunning predator. But perhaps there was a way. For long, long moments, he meditated on doubt, seeing through the war coordinator's efforts with a clear mind. The fear for his friends sought to overwhelm him, yet he pushed it aside again. A powerful image of his own death began dancing in front of his inner eye, but he blew it apart easily. 

The war coordinator started assaulting him with greater force, lancing images and emotions at him in a hailstorm of despair and fear and doubt. Chi'in retreated again, but sooner or later he would be cornered. All of a sudden the attack ceased, and he found that the war coordinator's tentacles were all that was keeping his quivering body upright. Once the creature released him, he dropped to the rocky ground thankfully. His breathing was almost desperate, as he tried to suffuse the oppressive feeling that still surrounded and clouded his mind. Someone moved above him and Chi'in looked up slowly, to find another Yuuzhan Vong regarding him intently. The alien gave him a grim smile.

"Very impressive, warrior," the war master whispered. "But now, you will die."

The Grand Admiral had just finished reading the latest report filed by Captain Palleon when the man himself announced his presence at his office door. Waving the captain inside Thrawn put the datacard he had been studying away and steepled his fingers elegantly in front of his chest. 

"Captain. Any more news?"

"Syndic Ech'an'dana's task force is expecting us at Miecona. His scout teams have not yet returned."

"They propably were wiped out by the enemy," the Grand Admiral reasoned. "We knew beforehand that they are coming down the Lieman Corridor."

"Yes, sir, but the loss of that scout group could prove devastating. We need all the information we can get out of that sector."

"We have what information we need, Captain," Thrawn admonished him quietly. "The enemy _is_ hiding out there."

"Sir, with all due respect, but how are we going to respond?"

Thrawn held back a sigh, his eyes taking in the concern that was plain on the captain's features. Again anger flared in his mind, anger at the Syndic's arrogance, and the Chiss' stubbornness in particular. "Syndic Bal'maw'narda shares Ech'an'dana's opinion concerning a defensive pattern," he explained slowly. "Believe me, Captain, I have tried my best to persuade them that we need to attack now, before they can gain a foot-hold in the Lieman Corridor."

"But our forces stand ready. All we need to do is direct them," Palleon retorted almost plaintively. 

"Ech'an'dana reported four capital ships and sixteen smaller vessels. From what I have seen 'capital' in this case means they can match the Executor's firepower. Additionally they have small single craft for attacking and harrying the enemy. The problem is, my friend, that we have no idea whether they might not have spread out further along the Corridor, let alone whether they have received reinforcements by now." 

Suddenly loud voices rose in an argument in the outer room. Glowing eyes narrowing Thrawn nodded at Palleon, who turned toward the door to check on the source of the commotion, but almost at the same moment a tall, bulky human strode into the office, his dark eyes ignoring the captain and fixing directly onto the Grand Admiral. 

"Ah, Master Deron," Thrawn greeted the newcomer quietly. "You might want to reconsider your position among the Chiss forces. The next time you decide to leave Almashin without giving notice first you might find yourself in deeper trouble than you are in now." 

He waved the Chiss who had followed the human in away again. They retreated obediently, but their eyes never left Naas Deron's back until they were out of sight.

When Syndic Bal'maw'narda had told him, in their last discussion, that Naas Deron had left the planet without telling anyone where he was going the Grand Admiral had reasoned that the Sith were choosing sides. Of course, that did not mean that Deron was allowed to breach protocol and discipline. He was ambassador to Almashin, no prisoner. And Bal'maw'narda would not have detained him, had he requested a leave for Nirauan. Why the hurry? Was it just that the man was that arrogant or ignorant, or was something else behind this?

"We are all in trouble," Deron replied coldly.

"You don't say," the captain remarked sarcastically.

"If you have any news, Master Deron, I would appreciate hearing it now," Thrawn interrupted Palleon quietly. 

"I am not certain if it is news, exactly, but Chi'in has been taken prisoner, and I fear that we cannot rely on his keeping silent on our defenses."

"Really?" His brow rising in surprise Thrawn leaned back in his chair slowly. "Knowing Chi'in, I would trust him to keep his head in a crisis such as this."

"My master is powerful, but there is always someone even more powerful than oneself. Someone with greater prowess, greater intellect, you choose," Naas Deron snorted. "I can feel him slip away. He will not last that much longer." 

"Do you know where he is?"

The Sith Lord seemed embarrassed all of a sudden. "I have not yet found the calm I need to focus that deeply."

"Then I suggest you find it now," Thrawn hissed viciously. "Find out everything you can, no matter what it takes." 

An emergency light started blinking at the comm console installed into his desk. He accepted the call swiftly and an image of Ech'an'dana's aged features appeared instantly. "Urgent news, Syndic," the older Chiss began. "We have picked up a distress call from the Jem'luz homeworld. It appears as if some of our scouts have survived the enemy assault. I will personally direct a retrieval mission into the Lieman Corridor."

"With all respect, Syndic, I do not believe this to be a vaild tactical decision."

"The information the scouts have gathered might prove essential."

"And such a maneuver would also split our main forces," Thrawn countered quietly.

Syndic Ech'an'dana regarded him in silence for a short while. Then he shook his head. "I am sorry having to disagree, but I will be taking two additional task forces with me. That should ensure the success of that mission. As I see it Nirauan, Csilla and Almashin are yet safe. It is your task to keep them that way."

"Syndic Ech'an'dana," Naas Deron injected respectfully, "I would advise you to rethink that maneuver. You have no concept of the powers that lay in waiting to trap you."

"Ambassador, I will certainly not hole up somewhere and wait for the enemy to overwhelm us. Gaining that information is vital for our defenses. I will go. Syndic," he addressed Thrawn again, "I trust you can handle the defenses of the secondary front."

"Of course. Good luck to you, Syndic." The image dissolved again and Thrawn gazed across the desk at the Sith Lord standing tall in front of him, his black-clad form conveying a sense of dark power. Yet Naas Deron's eyes held regret and even sorrow. 

"He is going to die," the man stated softly. "His choice dooms his troops as surely as it dooms himself. I have come to warn you, Grand Admiral. The Lieman Corridor is no place to be right now."

"I distinctly recall myself giving you an order, Master Deron. Either you submit to my command or else you leave and go back to Almashin," Thrawn told him just as quietly.

"I will stay," Deron replied through gritted teeth. "You will need me here. That I know for certain."

"Excellent. Why don't you set to work, then?"

The arrival at Bilbringi was uneventful, and Anakin was feeling anxious to be off again, and on his way to Byss. Leia did not really need him with her to handle the diplomats assembled here, and Piett would also be assisting her. All he was here for was to join forces with Lorth Needa's Second Fleet. Standing on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Freedom alongside its captain, a female Bith with the musical name Illichiyame, he surveyed the planet from afar, and watched as Leia's shuttle dropped toward the world in a steady descent. 

"They are coming within reach," the captain announced suddenly, directing the Dark Lord's attention toward the approaching Star Destroyer and her task force. Needa's Eisenhart was gliding through space elegantly, as if she had not just survived a close encounter with the galaxy's only Super Star Destroyer. A proud ship commanded by such a humble man. The arrangement worked, though, and Anakin had come to appreciate Needa's quiet competence early on. He was looking forward to working together with him again. Leaning toward the Bith he gave her a small nod. 

"Please invite the captain over. We need to discuss the further deployment of this battle-group."

"Yes, Lord Skywalker. At once," she answered calmly. Although officially she was still in command of their small fleet, and would be until they had reached Byss, she deferred to him easily, recognizing his greater experience and respecting it. It was a relief to be surrounded by people who were used to command and team-work, contrary to politicians such as Mon Mothma. 

No matter what Padmé was trying to make of him, he would never have the patience to become a diplomat. There was too much subterfuge instead of clear rules and directives, too many people trying to interfere with command, too many interests. In warfare there were indentifiable targets, clear priority issues and a common goal. The complex simplicity of that design gave safety and comfort of a sort, not the neverending dance on the slippery floor of the political arena. He admired his wife and daughter for the elegance and ease with which they navigated that treacherous battle-ground, just as he envied Luke his naivité, that let him view everything through an almost innocent perspective. 

It was funny, how his entire family had chosen one field to specialize in, and how every one of them had found someone to guard his or her back on their respective missions. Luke had Nuron, Leia had Han and he had an entire score of guardians, from Chi'in to Jix and Needa. He frowned. Only Padmé, it would seem, had to been left to struggle for herself. The Corellian would keep an eye on his future mother-in-law, the Dark Lord knew, but that was not the same. Left alone in yet unfamiliar territory his wife had no one she shared a deeper bond with, one of utmost trust. Suddenly anxious he laced the fingers of his hands together to keep them still. Perhaps he should contact her. Whirling away from the captain he stalked down the bridge to search for a private comm he could use.

Half an hour later he had the chance to talk both to Padmé and Han. While she seemed completely relaxed the Corellian wore a deep frown on his forehead. Understandably, considering the news they had for him. Anakin stared at the pair in surprise.

"He killed Nasdra Magrody?"

"Yeah," Solo confirmed. "We suspect this is some sort of crusade. Everyone who has somehow hurt him in the past gets pulled down. We'll be leaving for Bilbringi in a few hours. I don't want to leave Leia alone now."

"A wise decision," the Dark Lord agreed. "Padmé, what about you?"

"I will be travelling with Han," she replied gently. "I couldn't stand being alone on Courscant right now."

"And what about Irek?"

"Boba Fett wants to go hunt him down."

"Is that so?" Anakin nodded to himself. "Well, if you are coming here I suppose Leia will be reasonably safe. I myself will be leaving for Byss soon. From there on the fleet will maintain complete communications silence with the New Republic, meaning you won't be able to reach me." He gave Padmé a questioning glance and saw tears glisten in her eyes.

"Be careful, Anakin," she said softly. "Be careful. And come back safely."

"You be careful yourself," he answered with a fond smile and a loving gaze directed at her beautiful face. "Solo, you are hereby charged with protecting both my daughter and my wife," he added. "Think you're up to it?"

"You don't know what you are asking, your lordship," the Corellian retorted smartly. 

"Honestly, I do. So, my love, you will have to promise me that you will do what he says."

"If it is reasonable..." They shared a laugh, but Anakin longed to be able to touch her, to kiss her, feel her close. This was good-bye, and who knew what would happen out in the Unknown Regions? 

"I love you," he whispered and reached out to touch the screen with his fingertips. She returned the gesture tenderly, a radiant smile lighting up her eyes. 

"My love, do not forget the promise you made. Come back to me. All right?"

He swallowed back a fat lump of sudden fear, remembering himself as he had pleaded with her back on Korriban, had begged her to forgive him. But that crisis had passed. He gave her a brave little smile. 

"I will, don't worry."

But a few moments later, staring at the blank screen where her face had been just a heart-beat before, he felt that nothing would be all right. Something was about to happen. Something very bad.

"Lord Skywalker?"

Turning around in his seat he gave Captain Illichiyame a hard look. "Yes? Has Captain Needa already arrived?"

She nodded. "He is waiting for us."

"Why did you come by personally to fetch me?"

The captain seemed startled by his question. "I – " she stuttered, then broke off.

"You wanted to know if I was keeping something from you, is that not so?" She regarded him in silence for a while. Anakin knew that the Bith race was a highly developed, highly intelligent one. But if she were so smart she would not have tried to eavesdrop on him so clumsily. And here he had been hoping the powerplays had ended at last. Rising from his seat he stepped in front of her, using his own height to his advantage to intimidate her just a little bit. "Captian Illichiyame, if you do not trust my command I suggest we find a compromise concerning the deployment of your ships."

"Sir?"

"Admiral Voss Parck reported that a new attack on Nirauan would be imminent. There is a reasonable chance that the attacking force will be repelled. Perhaps they will fade back into the Unknown Regions, but maybe they will have no other way but to push further, into New Republic space. That would put Bilbringi in danger. Besides, having a sizeable force stationed here would enable us to respond more quickly, should they truly attack Nirauan. It is a longer jump from Byss to the base than from Bilbringi."

Illichiyame nodded slowly. "I see, sir. Very sound reasoning."

He gave her a thin smile. "I know."

Jix was somewhat surprised to hear from the Dark Lord again so soon, and before he had even arrived at Byss. Something must be bothering him greatly. So, when the aide came to summon him the Corellian was anxious to hear the news. Judging by the background Vader was aboard a starship, which probably meant that he was at least on his way. His expression was very earnest.

"Jix, everything all right on Byss?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Irek Ismaren is coming to you. I want you to inform Yana Dar that her brother has killed his bodyguard and his ex-mentor."

"Magrody?" Jix asked with a frown and the Dark Lord confirmed it with a nod. "So you assume he'll try to get at Yana next?"

"Possibly. I cannot afford leaving you and Mara twiddling your thumbs until I arrive. I need the two of you back in New Republic space."

"Where?"

"I want you to assist Karrde on Nar Shadaa. Keep an eye on Joral and hold Cesh Kendar's hand on Ryloth. With a new front opening in the Unknown Regions I want Hutt Space under control."

"Understood," Jix replied pensively. "You sure you don't want us with you?"

The Dark Lord smiled briefly. "I am certain, yes."

"And it's not because you think things might turn a bit nasty here on Byss once Irek arrives, is it?"

"You think I am deliberately trying to keep you out of danger?" Vader asked in some amusement. "I wouldn't dare."

"I hope so," the Corellian huffed, but a slight suspicion still remained.

Standing on the uppermost balcony of Lemit Zickorey's residence, Leia shaded her eyes against the light of the afternoon sun to watch Captain Needa's fleet move into a higher orbit and toward the jump-point for Byss. At her side Tomas Piett stood quietly, his hands crossed behind his straight back, his pale eyes calm. 

"There they go," she sighed wistfully. "Who will have the harder battle to fight, I wonder?"

The Admiral turned his head to give her a somewhat startled glance. Leia smiled at him. "I do not expect the negotiations to be that difficult," she assured him, "but once our choices are made the real struggle will begin."

"How very true," he agreed, and a small smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But until then we have a solid chance of preparing the course this galaxy will be taking in the future."

The Princess did not answer. There had been something, just briefly, as if someone had been trying to call out to her. Frowning, she turned her head to gaze up at the sky. _Luke?_

TBC

__


	22. Chapter 21 - Behind Enemy Lines

****

****

Chapter 21 – Behind Enemy Lines

They had made good progress form the coast further into the country-side, which consisted mainly of rough, dark coral riffs the oceans had yielded over the course of millennia. Now, while sheltering in a small cave at the side of another riff Nuron had insisted on teaching him the Prayer and Answer.

"I can't go on," Luke complained. "It is too much." Throwing his hands up in defeat he tried to ignore the disappointment in Nuron's golden eyes. She was kneeling in front of him, the palms of her hands resting lightly on his thighs as she directed him through the exercise.

"It can't be too much," she reasoned. "The Force is ever-present, it cannot crush you or anything."

"Of course it can!" he replied heatedly. "It requires an awful lot of concentration to remember oneself when facing that power!"

Nuron pouted. "I can't say I feel anything remotedly as strong as you claim to feel," she said reproachfully. 

"Well? Perhaps whatever called out to me back at the coast is magnifying my perception."

"You truly believe so?" the Zabrak asked, awe in her voice. "What do you think it is?"

Luke shrugged. "I have no idea. Something powerful, I guess."

She squeezed his thighs gently. "Try again."

Sighing, Luke closed his eyes once more. The Force was there, so close, so vibrant. A golden light so bright it hurt his mind. Yet he surrendered to it, felt it flow through him like a hot wave of an all-consuming sense of being _alive_. Focusing more deeply he tried to find whoever had called to him the night before. Suddenly there was a response. Luke's ears filled with an eerie song, a beautiful, peaceful chiming, and he could feel the cool touch of the ocean, the water streaming past him, caressing his body. Drifting in the embrace of the Force he experienced everything more acutely than at any other time. His mind expanded to take in more and ever more of Kynda'bey's oceans, the depth of the sea, the sky, the riffs. Everything was full of life, the Force. It was intoxicating. Then another presence joined him, and another, great, bluish shadows that appeared like ghosts and sang to him. With startling clarity he realized what they were. He felt like laughing out loud.

__

Laa'kuan.

His mind filled to bursting with the golden light he could feel all around he sent a prayer to the Force, a clear, strong shout of pure being, that echoed away and resounded from the universe to crash back into him with a power that took his breath away. He was drowning in the Force, drowning happily. It felt so grand, so beautiful –

"Luke!"

His eyes snapped open suddenly. Nuron was bent over him, her arms holding him tightly, concern plain on her features. "Luke," she repeated and a single tear slid down her cheek. 

"I thought I had lost you for good," she whispered and her forehead sank forward to rest against his shoulder. Stroking her back gently the young Jedi was not yet fully present. His thoughts were still out in the ocean, hunting the blue sea alongside the Mahsenda. "Where were you?" the Zabrak asked softly at last.

"I do not know," he replied quietly, feeling the anguish of sweet loss, a longing to feel the Force again so intimately. "But I think now I know what we must do."

Belana Jen was standing behind her lover as he gazed out over one of the citadel's inner courtyards. She wondered what he was seeing out there. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders she hugged him close, seeking to bodily bridge the gulf separating them in the Force. He was breathing evenly, and he seemed focused on something only he could see. There was an air of expectation surrounding him, as if he were ready to leave at a moment's notice. Yet he remained here, had made himself Yana Dar's advisor, even though he so obviously felt confined and restless. 

"What is bothering you?" she asked softly. "Is it Irek?" She put her chin at the base of his neck, waiting. 

"Irek? What do you mean?" Turning his head slightly he raised his brows questioningly. 

"What you said to Jade. That you would kill him."

"So?" He shrugged. 

"He is your son."

"A misled assumption. He is an artificially created being. How could he have any father?"

"You still believe Palpatine did this just to spite you?" Belana gently brushed the long white tresses from his shoulders and kissed the nape of his neck with tenderness. "You know the truth, don't you?"

"Knowing the truth is not the same as accepting it."

"I guess you are right. But you cannot let yourself be blinded by the past. That is exactly what he would have wanted you to do. Franzis Sarreti sent an assassin after Irek, but you and I both know who Palpatine really chose to become the boy's executioner."

"Vader. Or myself."

"And knowing that, you still want to play _his_ game?"

"I have been playing it all along. Why stop now?" he asked lightly, but she could hear the despair in his words. "Belana, I am losing my faith."

"You don't mean that!"she laughed.

"No? If I stay true to my faith I will lose everything."

Belana stiffened at his tone, so full of sadness and resignation that she could almost believe him. "Kell," she whispered, "you do not really believe that, do you?"

"It is something I have dreaded for a long time, but I know it is unevitable. I have lost too many to shy away from that sacrifice now."

"Too many what?" she asked, hugging herself to him tighter. 

"People. My clan, the Sith, the Jem'luz ... I was never there to protect them." 

"But that is not your duty, is it?"

"I am not sure what my duty is, right now. A guide? I have already guided them here, to this point where they will have to prove that they truly are the steel the last wars have forged them into."

"Then what – "

"I have neglected my belief. When I turn around now I find that my ideals are hampering my perception, that the gods I have followed are cruel and unforgiving, that my dreams have been nothing but the foolish delusions of idealism. Life is simple. I told you so before. I sometimes wondered why I survived at all, when my mother knew for certain that the Sith could not last forever. I fear now I know why. I was playing games."

"But not anymore?" Belana asked quietly, finding it difficult to follow his logic. There was so much he took for granted, things that he knew and she didn't. His motives were not at all clear. But this was his private pain, not something he would ever want to share even with her. 

"One last gamble," he replied in a whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "When that one is over, Belana, it will be time for me to choose a successor. I know it will be soon. I can feel it."

"You have chosen already," she reminded him quietly.

"Yes." A sigh wrought itself from his throat and sent shivers down the Jedi Master's back. "But first I have to end what I have begun. I have been a fool to let Palpatine dictate my actions. When the enemy knows one's tactics just as intimately as oneself it is time to change one's ways."

Woken by a soft sound Yana opened her eyes in the middle of the night and almost panicked when she found Abla's face only inches from hers. He was grinning down at her and she tried to relax again somewhat, sinking back into the pillows. But Abla kissed her awake when sleep threatened to overwhelm her once more.

"Whassup?" she murmured muzzily as he ran his hand though her hair gently. "What time is it anyway?" she continued and sat up.

"It is pretty early," he chuckled. "But I want you to see something. Come." Holding out his hand for her he waited until she took it, then drew her toward himself and kissed her again, more deeply this time. Yana felt incredibly good right then. When he released her she bounded off the bed enthusiastically, suddenly anxious to see what he had meant. 

Abla put his hands on her waist and propelled her toward the door that led into the grand living room. He activated the window controls and the black panes drew back to reveal the breathtaking view out over the city. The darkness was broken by the purple light of the moon that covered almost everything, except for the shadows. It was a thrilling view, and Yana felt herself shudder in anticipation of the sunrise, for that was what Abla had wanted to share with her. She turned her head to face him with a warm smile and cuddled against him lovingly, while her eyes sought the window again. 

Outside a sliver of red appeared along the low clouds that bordered the horizon. Then, in a majestic wave, the morning light started the long advance toward the city walls and the citadel itself. The sun rose from the seas of the dark night in a glorious ball of fire, almost blinding Yana with its intensity. When she felt that the sight would overwhelm her senses Abla slipped his arms around her and hugged her close, his warm body a welcome shield at her back. She knew then that he would always be there for her, would never let her down, no matter what. He loved her, not the Empire, or the Empress, just her. It was an elating revelation and she felt like laughing out loud.

"What?" he whispered into her hair and kissed her left ear tenderly. Turning toward him Yana wore laughter on her face, but it froze when she saw his face, drenched in the blood-red light of the morning sun. He frowned at her expression and his embrace relaxed ever so slightly. "Yana, are you all right?" Disengaging from him, her eyes still wide with horror, she hurried past him without explanation, trying to put some distance between herself and the vision she'd just had. It could not be true. Snatching up a robe from her bed she wrapped it around herself and left her chambers on bare feet. Outside a pair of red-robed guards stood to attention. They followed at a short distance as she wandered aimlessly down the hallway, her mind racing. Only a few moments later someone caught up with her, his footsteps echoing ominously down the corridor ahead of her. 

"Your Majesty."

Yana stopped abruptly, not daring to turn around. She could not let anyone see the tears. Not anyone. Not now. When Franzis Sarreti stepped around her to look at her she dropped her gaze, embarrassed. At a wave of his hand the Royal Guardsmen retreated once more. 

"Your Majesty. Is there anything I can do for you?" the counselor asked very softly. 

Yana gave a bitter laugh. "Can you fight destiny?"

"I can fight it, but I could not defeat it."

"Wise words." Meeting his gray eyes the Empress drew her robe tighter around herself. "You are a wise man, Counselor. I wish you had chosen to take Markhan's place instead of burdening me with all this. I am not fit to be Empress – "

He held up a hand to silence her and shook his head gently. "When you cannot run or hide all that is left is to fight. The weapon is yours to choose."

"You know what I mean?" she asked, surprised at his insight. 

Again he nodded. "Your brother. You fear his wrath."

Patting his shoulder Yana smiled tiredly. "No, Counselor. I am not afraid for myself. But I fear that I will lose him. And I regret that loss already."

His gaze was uncomprehending, but then, Franzis Sarreti was not someone who would let emotion get in the way of his duty. He could not understand that Yana was afraid of losing a brother she had never truly known, someone she wanted to get to know very much. 

"I am not sure I understand," he ventured hesitantly.

"It does not matter, Counselor. Please. I am quite all right. All I need now is some solitude."

He nodded at her, then turned away to leave. She watched him go pensively. Abla loved her, she knew. But what did Franzis Sarreti see in her? An icon? An assurance for the Empire's continued survival? She was not certain. But whatever it was, she knew she could rely on him.

When the alarm came Gilead Palleon was on his daily round across the new flagship. He had left the Chimaera to Captain Hellermann, so far his second, and had instead taken over the post as the Executor's captain under the Grand Admiral's command. Assisting him was Commander Sujar, who had been promoted during that unfortunate episode with Irek Ismaren. The commander was accompanying him on his round, an attentive student, who was not shy to ask questions. 

"Sir, shouldn't we be returning to the bridge?" he asked, when Palleon made for one of the machine control rooms. 

"No," the captain replied as he palmed open the door. "A commander's place is not necessarily the bridge. We have several stations all over the ship that can allow one to intercede immediately, instead of losing time by returning to the bridge first. At ease, lieutenant," he told the young officer overseeing the technicians working at the control stations. "What do you have for us?"

"Incoming ship, unknown registry. Communications is trying to verify their identification."

"Verify? Who do they claim to be?"

"Admiral Voss Parck and his bodyguard, Puket."

"Send an escort and have the newcomers stand down their weapons."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied with a queer glance at Sujar. Perhaps the man was wondering why the commander was keeping so quiet. "Commander, I will leave the finer details to you. I hear you have a talent for organization. Lieutenant Narket here will be assisting you," Palleon said quietly.

"As ordered, Captain," Sujar replied.

"Good. I shall be on the bridge," he explained with a smile. Revelation dawned suddenly on the commander's face as he realized that this was a test for his abilities. Without the ressources of the ship's bridge he would have to improvise a bit. But Palleon had no doubt that the man would manage this perfectly. Leaving Sujar to his task he crossed his hands on his back and started the long walk back to one of the turbolifts, that would carry him back up to the bridge. If that was really Voss Parck out there, and he was fairly certain it was indeed the Admiral, then they would be much better prepared for an enemy assault. Parck would take over the ground defenses, while he himself commanded the ships. The Grand Admiral himself would concentrate on coordinating the defense itself. 

He exited the turbolift and started toward the lower bridge when he met Naas Deron. The Sith Lord looked to be less on edge than he had over the past few days.

"The Admiral is returning?" he asked with a smile and Palleon nodded mutely as he strode past the taller man. "That is good. We'll need him."

"Any more helpful advice from your side? Have you made any progress in tracking down Chi'in?"

"Not, not yet. His presence seems to be muted somehow. I cannot reach him." 

Palleon sighed. It would have been too good to be true, otherwise. "And why do you think we will need the Admiral here?"

"A feeling," Naas Deron answered softly.

"Oh. Good." Turning to block the other man's way to the lower bridge the captain gave the other a sharp nod. "I would ask you to return to the base, Master Deron. Somehow I feel the crew does not appreciate having another Sith on board right now." The truth was, that he himself did not really appreciate Deron's presence. The man was arrogant and he had no concept of teamwork. And his 'hunches' and 'feelings' were disturbing. 

"I understand," the Sith replied coldly. "I would not want to inconvenience you and your crew."

"Thank you. That would be all." Whirling away once more Palleon marched toward the staircase that led to the upper bridge. Things were bad enough without someone making them seem even worse.

"What do you mean 'it is growing stronger'?" Nuron shouted, her hands pressed over her ears in a vain attempt to shield her mind against the mental assault that had forced the two of them to rest much earlier than they had planned. Luke, feeling sick to his stomach, could not answer. His back resting against the wall of a small cave he wiped some more sweat from his forehead. 

"It is – more intense than before," he managed at last and immediately bent over to throw up what little breakfast he'd managed to eat, and then some more. He was wondering hard whether the Mahsenda felt as sick as he did. They must be frantic. A low moan reached his awareness and he turned his head slowly, rubbing his sleeve over his mouth, to look over at Nuron. She had dropped down to sit on her haunches, her head buried in her hands. "Are you okay?" he asked and started toward her. Her hands came away covered in blood. 

The shock at seeing her fingers drenched in the red liquid cured Luke's stomach at once. Hastening over toward her he almost stumbled over the rocky underground. "You are injured!" the young Jedi exclaimed as he dropped to his knees beside her. But when he reached out to examine the wound on her forehead she slapped his arm away with a ferocious growl. 

"It is just my horns growing out," she explained testily.

Luke's jaw dropped. "What? Your horns? What? I mean – What? Your horns?"

"It is all right," she told him with a smile, an amused glint in her golden eyes. "You can stop babbling."

"But, you said it wouldn't be until another year – " He raised his right hand to touch the sharp tip of the center horn above the bridge of her nose gingerly. It was black, like her tattoos. 

Nuron gave him a proud smile. "Well, perhaps this is a good omen."

Hugging her closely he gave her a careful kiss, then started wiping away the blood from her face. "Wow. You really look fearsome now. Savage, almost."

"Savage?" Drawing a hand alonside his jaw she returned his kiss very gently. "You truly think so?"

Luke gave her a wide grin. "We shall see, won't we?" Just then a new wave of mind-blasting power washed over them. "What the hell is that?" the young Jedi muttered between gritted teeth. "It is incredible!"

"The word I was thinking of was 'frightening'," Nuron murmured back. "Come. The sooner we find out the sooner we can fight it."

The war coordinator seemed incredibly enraged by the Noghri's continuing resistance. They had tried to break his will by repeatedly pretending that his death was imminent, but with each time Chi'in embraced the inevitable more fully. If he was going to die he would certainly not yield anything to his enemies first. But his defiant stance did not count for all that much. The more stress he was put under the more he thought about what he was trying to keep secret, and thus fed the war coordinator's probing mind bits and pieces of vital information. After some time Chi'in really wished that he would die, so he could keep at least some things from the Yuuzhan Vong. 

Now, lying exhausted in the rocky ground, with Fahl Dan standing guard over him, he was watching the war master warily. That one was clearly the leader of the group and the only one who seemed to be holding private conversations with the war coordinator. 

When the war master nodded in satisfaction and disengaged from the giant creature again Chi'in tensed all over. Almost at once Fahl Dan dropped to his knees beside him, the sharp edge of his strange weapon resting against the Noghri's neck. The things were called amphistaff, as far as he had been able to discover, and they looked like some sort of snake. They could change their shape from hard and sharp to supple and whip-like. And they obeyed their masters dilligently. Having one of those things so close was not very comforting. 

The war master had reached the prisoner by now and wore a smile on his horribly scarred features. "The yammosk has discovered the defenses of your base at Ni-rau-an. They will yield to us and be destroyed."

Chi'in glared at the creature, but he did not really feel anything. He had known that he had stood no chance against the war coordinator's mind. All he could do now was have faith in the base's commanders and troops. And perhaps there was something else he could do. He had been wondering about the exact nature of the relationship between the war coordinator and the Yuuzhan Vong warriors. 

Again it had been Fahl Dan, so certain of his captive's inability to escape, who had explained to him in a brief moment of repose after hours of mental torture, that the war coordinator – the yammosk, Chi'in recalled the warrior having called that monster – was joining the Yuuzhan Vong, guiding them. It was reasonable to assume even in his current state of mind, that the yammosk would also coordinate the attack on Nirauan. How, he did not know, for surely the thing's powers could not reach that far. 

Chi'in did not answer to the war master's prediction. He had found it easier to keep quiet and focus than spend his energy in useless acts of defiance. But his calm bearing had had an additional intent. It served to lower his enemies' expectations. Now he felt strong enough to put his plan in motion. All he had to do was get past the mental pressure the yammosk had surrounded his mind with. Not an easy task. 

Focusing inward Chi'in found his heart and soul in turmoil, but he ignored his warring emotions. Again he sought a state of clear reason, of unhampered perception. It was almost impossible to achieve. The yammosk permeated all of his thoughts, exposed his very being constantly, mocked it, even. Yet still the Noghri shied away from using darkness against that creature. He needed calm. But he could not find it. Suddenly the pressure against his throat ceased and he looked up groggily to see Fahl Dan rise to his feet. At the edge of his awareness he found excited voices shouting at one another, then the mind-blasting power of the yammosk overwhelmed everything. Sitting up, Chi'in drew a laborous breath. 

"Chi'in!"

He looked up sharply, the sweetly familiar voice making his heart beat even faster. Then he saw her. Nuron was sommersaulting over the heads of half a dozen Yuuzhan Vong warriors, her lightsaber a red beam alive in her hands. But the aliens closing in on her were too fast, too well coordinated, and her lightsaber did not seem to have the effect she had hoped it would have. Chi'in's eyes widenend in horror when he saw her red blade rebound from Fahl Dan's armored chest. The Yuuzhan Vong attacked immediately, driving her back into the throng of soldiers standing behind her. Where was Luke? Why was Luke not with her? Chi'in was frantic. With renewed energy he jumped to his feet and rounded on the yammosk. If he could take that monster out, perhaps then the three of them would not die in vain. 

Luke was wondering how Nuron managed to find a focus to fight at all. Standing hunched over at the small entrance they had found to the grotto Luke was trying to fight the mental attacks hammering against his shields relentlessly. He had identified the tentacled, giant creature resting in the midst of the grotto in a huge pool of water as the source of the assault on his mind, but it was sapping his will, was slowly pushing his defenses back. For the first and last time throughout his short career as a Jedi warrior Luke wished he had had the opportunity to train with Roj Kell. Somehow the old man's students seemed to have experience in areas that he himself did not even know about. When he saw Nuron's lightsaber fail to cut through one of the towering aliens he screamed out in fear, but found his emotions smothered instantly by an ever greater sense of despair. 

"Nuron!" 

He pushed himself away from the wall, but his mind was swimming, denying him the concentration he needed to feel the Force and to use it in his friends' defense. It was then that a powerful image managed to bypass the monster's attacks on his mind. He could see the grotto, could see the thing's tentacles twitch lazily in the water above him, could hear the shouts and screams filtered through the blanket of silence that permeated the sea. Peace settled over him as the Mahsenda enfolded him in their embrace. He accepted it gladly. Safe in the protective cocoon of the predatory creatures he could see clearly, and direct their attack. There were three of them, two huge females and a sleek male. They eagerly took up the chase once he had made his intent plain.

His legs were moving of their own accord now, his feet hammering over the rocky, slippery ground, never losing their purchase, and his left hand shot out to send a ripple of power through the ranks of the alien warriors surrounding his friends, just as the monster reared up with a piercing scream that reverbrated from the grotto's walls. The Mahsenda were almost invisible, their skin adapting to their surroundings easily. He could just make out where their strong jaws had buried long teeth into the thing's flanks. It started thrashing madly in their grip and gradually the power it exuded seemed to fade as it concentrated on this new threat. 

Then a powerful voice started bellowing orders at the panicking soldiers. Luke hit them head-on, his mind a weapon that could crack their armor easily, even though he could not sense them in the Force. Yet they were regrouping fast under the lead of a tall warrior whom the young Jedi immediately identified as most dangerous foe among those facing him. The creature started for him, a staff spinning lazily in his right hand. Luke extended an arm toward him, ready to crush the thing's head. But then, in an instant, his concentration shattered. He had been using the Dark Side! He had been about to initiate a slaughter! His momentary indecision cost him when the warrior attacked, swinging the staff at him in an elegant arc. Luke brought his arm up to block it, but withdrew in the last moment when he saw the sharp edge of the weapon, that would have cleanly severed his limb had he not noticed the danger in time. Suddenly Nuron was by his side.

"Where is Chi'in?" she shouted in his ear. Luke shook his head without looking at her. He had been too focused on the battle to pay much attention to the Noghri. But as if called by Nuron's desperate question the Sith Lord's small, wiry frame darted between the much bigger aliens toward them. With a wild cry he launched himself at the back of the tall warrior leading them. The creature reacted with incredible speed, the staff he held in his hand stabbing at the Noghri's middle. Chi'in did not manage to twist out of the way fully. The staff's sharp edge tore over his lower ribcage in a spray of blood. 

"No!" Nuron brought her own blade up in a high strike position and rushed at the warrior with a snarl on her face. 

Luke followed her with a drawn-out, wordless howl of pure rage. The Zabrak blocked the warrior's wild swing at her head and moved in toward her adversary. Her left hand ran over his neck and chest in a swift search, before she glided around him, with him following her move clumsily. Then they vanished in the throng of soldiers and Luke stood alone, his heart hammering in his throat. The shrieks of the huge monster had subsided, and he looked up in shock to see the thing's black eyes gazing straight at him. His eyes dropped down to see something at the edge of the pool, the carcass of one of the Mahsenda, he guessed. There was no sign of the other two. For now the monster seemed to need some time to recover from the predators' attack, but that could not last. They needed to leave fast. 

"Nuron!" he hollered over the din of voices and realized that just a few moments had passed. Quite a lot of the aliens were now moving in his direction purposefully. The young Jedi hastened over to where Chi'in had fallen and winced at the sight of him. Wordlessly he gathered the Noghri's smaller form in his arms. "Nuron!" he yelled again, his eyes searching the crowd for her. Suddenly she was there, seemingly dropping from the ceiling. Luke risked a quick glance up and saw that a rock ledge ran almost the entire length of the chamber at a height of about three meters. When his gaze wandered further up he noticed a strange array of glittering crystals, or plants, but by then Nuron had already grabbed his collar and started dragging him back into the small tunnel they had used to get down here. 

"We gotta get to our ships!" she hissed at him. But both knew that now that they had alerted the enemy to their presence escaping the planet would become a lucky gamble. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn had been studying the data Chi'in had brought back from his extensive travels intently, but he had a hard time finding a clue there. The Noghri had not managed to uncover the Jem'luz homeworld's secret, but Thrawn had studied the Jem'luz for a while, before he had annihilated them. Now, with the news connecting them to Roj Kell he thought he might have a better chance at understanding them. When Naas Deron entered his office he didn't look up.

"Take a seat." The tall human coomplied wordlessly. "I am going to ask a few questions. Please try to answer them to the best of your knowledge."

"Yes. Of course," Deron answered quietly.

"Excellent. Is there a connection between the Unknown Regions and early Sith history?"

"To my knowledge, no."

"Apart from the ysalamiri and the people invading us now, have there ever been species with a similar specifcation concerning the Force?"

"No species, no," Naas Deron answered with a shake of his head, "but Lord Kell himself is close to invisible in the Force."

"How so?"

"I assume his mental shields are that good."

"You assume?"

Deron gave him a blank look. "Well, that is the only explanation I have."

"And the fact that the deaths of the people massacred in the Unknown Regions did not gain your attention, nor that of Chi'in, Cronn or Puket, what does that tell you?"

"It is impossible."

"Apparently not," Thrawn replied coolly. "Perhaps you could put your mind to finding an answer to that question?"

"Of course. Sir, you have studied the Jem'luz. What can you tell me about them?"

Leaning back in his seat Thrawn steepled his hands across his chest and regarded the Sith Lord earnestly. "Their culture was somewhat confusing. We knew them to be savages who did not tolerate anyone on their planet. Yet from time to time representatives of other nations that live here, in the Unknown Regions, would come to their homeworld. They were only permitted to enter a certain area, something of a holy ground."

"Why did you decide to annihilate them?"

"Those other nations were enemies of the Chiss. I had to assume that they were using the Jem'luz' religious antics to disguise their intentions toward us. Interrogations of representatives captured on that world confirmed those suspicions. I do not know what purpose they had, what ideals."

"So they were only hostile toward the Chiss?"

"Not directly. But the Chiss never participated in those gatherings."

"Why?"

"We were – discouraged – by our enemies."

"But what made you intitiate the Jem'luz' extinction in the first place?"

"There was clear evidence that pointed toward and alliance between the Jem'luz and other nations that was forming against us."

Naas Deron nodded pensively. "So you decided to strike at them first."

"Yes." The Grand Admiral leaned toward the Sith once more. "I would give much to have Roj Kell here instead of you, Master Deron, no offense meant, but you are all I have. You have studied the Chiss' culture for a year now, and you know the Sith intimately. What possibility do you see to merge our two cultures into one effective fighting force?"

Naas Deron regarded him calmly, his posture utterly relaxed. "Let the Sith be your eyes and ears and let the Chiss use their knowledge of the Unknown Regions to direct them."

"Master Chi'in was captured by the enemy. What makes you think you can succeed where your master failed?"

"He was alone. I will have a fleet to back me up. Your fleet."

Thrawn gave him a tight smile. "I suppose it is worth a try." At that moment a young Chiss appeared at the doorway. 

"Syndic, Admiral Parck has arrived."

"Ah. Please see him in." So, Voss Parck had returned from his unfortunate mission. Thrawn kept his features carefully neutral, but he felt angry at his long-time friend for having abandoned the base so senselessly. The Admiral strode into the Grand Admiral's office with his Twi'lek bodyguard on his heels and nodded at Naas Deron before he saluted toward Thrawn.

"Sir, it is good to see you back," he said pleasantly.

"I cannot say the same of you, my friend," Thrawn replied coldly. "Your foolish diplomatic mission could have doomed this base's troops."

"They are still alive," Parck murmured softly. 

"Indeed. But you were not here to ensure their survival."

"I thought it best to go to Byss myself. Sending another representative – "

"Would have made no difference in the end," the Grand Admiral interrupted him harshly. "Do you have anything useful to tell me?"

Voss Parck did not find any forgiveness in the Grand Admiral's eyes or features. Looking at him expectantly Thrawn clearly was not inclined to forget this breach of security protocol. He briefly glanced at Naas Deron, who was staring fixedly at Puket, and the Twi'lek herself seemed to have a hard time keeping quiet. The tips of her lekkus were twitching excitedly. 

"We have made a stop-over at Anobis and uncovered that Yana Dar has proclaimed herself Empress."

"Palpatine's daughter," Thrawn muttered. "So she is secure on Byss?"

"Yes. Apparently Roj Kell is with her."

That seemed to get the other's undivided attention. "He is on Byss? Then I will contact him right away. We need his input concerning this threat."

"Especially since he was responsible for launching this attack at us in the first place," Parck added gloomily.

"Yes." Thrawn gave him a small smile. "True. I would appreciate it if you could make an effort at getting him on the line for me, Admiral, since you have been to Byss recently."

"Yes, sir, right away."

"And report to General Sa'lym'a. He is to surrender command to you."

"Ground defenses?" Parck asked, surprised.

"Yes. Captain Palleon will be assisting me aboard the Executor. Dismissed." 

Nodding once the Admiral turned away. Somehow he had a feeling that Thrawn wasn't finished with him yet. 

Walking the somewhat deserted hallways of the inner fortress Abla Othana felt ill at ease. Yana's behavior this last morning worried him. She had refused to talk about it, and somehow the gentle look in her blue eyes had frightened him more than her stubborn insistence on keeping her silence. He made his way toward Franzis Sarreti's office slowly – the counselor had simply taken over Tious Markhan's headquarters – and his thoughts were with his lover. She had changed over the past days, as if she were not certain anymore whether it had been the right decision to take the throne. Perhaps Sarreti would have an answer. But when he walked past the guards standing watch in front of the office and found Roj Kell standing at the viewport, with Sarreti seated behind his desk, he knew that he had been expected.

"Abla," the counselor said with a smile. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Dropping into one of the chairs standing in front of the desk Abla gave the other a hard glare. "What is this about?"

"Actually I was about to ask the same of you. The Empress does not seem herself. Something is troubling her, and I – we – had hoped that you could tell us what that is."

"We?" Abla glanced over at Roj Kell, who had not moved from his place. "What if I told you that I don't know myself? And that I am also worried?"

"Unfortunate." Leaning back in his chair Sarreti regareded him out of cold gray eyes. 

Abla felt angry all of a sudden. "Why unfortunate? Because your plan is not proceeding as you have planned?"

"No. Unfortunate, because we need a strong leader right now."

"You could always take over," Abla retorted quietly.

Sarreti's brow rose in fake indignation. "That is treason, my friend. And I for one would not stand for it."

"Why? Why not? You know this business far better than she does."

"That is true. For now. But I intend to teach her," the counselor answered lightly. "But I fear that her brother would prove too much of a distraction. Neither I nor Lord Kell believe he will come around to see sense."

"Is that so?" Abla shot another glare at the Sith's back. "And Lord Kell hasn't even met the boy yet."

"I have heard enough." The old man's voice was low, but it filled the room easily. Abla swallowed hard. If there was one thing he would not want it was to become the man's enemy. "Fact is that Yana Dar would put more effort in trying to redeem her brother than study to become the leader of the Empire."

"She never really wanted the job, you know?" Abla tried weakly. 

"She accepted it. Now there is no turning back. At least not right away," Kell replied and turned around to face the slicer and the counselor. "As I see it the Emperor knew very well that his daughter would not shed responsibility once accepted. She is caught, at least her mind is. Her heart might say otherwise, but I doubt she will listen."

"Then you do not know her at all," Abla breathed. "Yana is not as cold or ruthless as you are, or her father. She will welcome Irek home and she will make him see the error of his ways."

"Too much of a risk," Sarreti insisted. 

Then Abla got it. Rising from his seat abruptly he shook his head with a growl. "You are planning on killing him, am I right? You don't even want him to get close to Yana. And you want me to 'distract' her? Is that so?"

The counselor nodded solemnly. "Lord Kell will apprehend the boy before he can reach the Empress. He will test him. Should Irek fail that test – " Snapping his fingers once Sarreti gave Abla a cold smile. "We cannot afford any more risks. Should the Empress die, you and I will be dead before we can even blink. As long as the moffs and governors pretend that Yana will rule like her father did she is safe. Therefore her brother must die."

"I won't stand for it," the slicer announced. "My loyalty is to the Empress." He gave Sarreti a hard look. "Who are you loyal to?"

The counselor rose elegantly in one swift move. "I am loyal to the Empire, Abla Othana. Yana Dar symbolizes the Empire. And I will see to it that that symbol remains strong. I will not see her fall just because you are taken by misplaced compassion for a madman."

Still gazing hard at Sarreti the slicer addressed the third man in the room. "Lord Kell, do you think the same?" When the man did not answer right away Abla risked a glance. The ancient Sith was studying both him and Sarreti with interest. Then a sudden smile appeared on his lips. 

"So you have some backbone after all. Good. You will need it," he declared, his enchanting voice like a steel blade sheathed in dark velvet. "But keep one thing in mind. For the past two years the two of you have been working into Palpatine's hands. You have no assurance that your own plan will succeed, that he has not some nasty surprise hidden that will trap and destroy you."

"What are you talking about?" Abla demanded angrily.

"Yana Dar. She is her father's daughter, in more ways than she wants to realize." Those pale eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I can see your doubt, Abla Othana, but I will prove it to you. And then you must decide what you believe in."

TBC


	23. Chapter 22 - The End of Innocence

****

Chapter 22 – The End of Innocence

Two days had passed since their flight from the grotto, and Luke was exhausted. His shoulders were aching from constantly having to carry the Noghri's ailing body and at the same time lending him some of his strength so Chi'in would survive. Nuron in turn seemed bright and alert, no matter what hour of the day, no matter how close the aliens chasing them came to discovering their prey. It was incredible with what focus and determination the young Zabrak was performing as his guardian and guide. But Luke himself did not stay idle. He had been in constant contact with the Mahsenda, who were spying on the giant war coordinator – the yammosk, Chi'in had called it in a waking moment – and the activities of the warriors chasing them. The Mahsenda's perception went beyond anything the young Jedi would have expected in a semi-sentient creature. They could even determine the position of the starships in orbit around Kynda'bey. 

Luke found solace in communicating with the great predators and let their minds shield his against the assaults of the yammosk. Nuron had already commented that they might experience troubles when trying to take off, since the giant creature emitted something of a force-field, that might disrupt their ships' electronics. But Luke had dismissed her concern, telling her that they could rely on the Mahsenda to find a safe route for them. As expected, she was not convinced. 

But now they were so close to the coast and the cave where they had left their ships, that a rare smile appeared on her features when she looked over at him. "How is he?" she asked softly and nodded toward Chi'in.

"Unconscious," Luke replied tiredly. "He has lost too much blood and I cannot really heal him. But he's holding on." He wished he could do more for his friend, and the memory of another friend's dying was haunting him. Kit Nesha had died in the battle for Chandrila, aboard a rebel cruiser, just before Luke himself had been captured by the Grand Admiral's troops. Back then the young Jedi had clumsily tried to heal the older man and had failed utterly. Kit had passed away in his arms, with a smile on his face. But Luke had the feeling that, if Chi'in ever woke from his healing trance again, his black eyes would be full of disappointment and disapproval. 

Nuron loped ahead, picking her way down the narrow track that would lead them to the cave they had refashioned as ship hangar. Briefly Luke wondered whether Al'than'erudo had escaped and Ech'an'dana's fleet might appear to rescue them in the last moment. But he knew that he could not rely on wishful thinking. Following Nuron he entered the cave and heaved a relieved sigh when he found the ships there and apparently intact. 

"Hurry, now," the Zabrak admonished him. "Chi'in is small enough to fit into the back of the cockpit. He will need to be stabilized. I have a spare breathing mask and a thermo blanket. I will carry him in my ship, so you can concentrate on getting us out of here."

Luke stared at her as she went about to prepare her ship for the task. But then pride broke through the initial surprise, pride at her competence and resolve. Walking over to the scoutships he helped Nuron wrap the Noghri into the thermo blanket and fix the breathing mask over his face. His hands touched hers briefly, and she gave him a warm smile that lit up his very soul. She bent toward him and placed a kiss on his lips before she hoisted herself up and dropped into the pilot's seat. "Let's go."

Twenty minutes later they were driving hard for open space. The siren song of the Mahsenda was slowly fading away, and a flight of alien ships was in hot pursuit of the fleeing scoutcraft. But with the Mahsenda's touch fading the assaults of the yammosk were growing stronger too. Luke was gritting his teeth in a dire effort to keep his wits about him, but sweat was pouring down his forehead steadily. He hoped that Nuron and Chi'in were doing well, but he could not spare an ounce of strength to check on either. Suddenly the black sky in front of him lit up with a golden sheen as a plasma bolt raced past him, missing his ship just barely. 

To Luke's surprise the shot was answered immediately from up front and then he drew his ship into a wild evasive maneuver to avoid crashing headlong into a large star cruiser. He had been concentrating on the yammosk so deeply that he had not even sensed the ship ahead. He really needed to work on expanding his sphere of awareness. But right now he just had to survive. Luckily the newcomers were more interested in picking off their pursuers than paying any heed to the Jedi and the Sith.

"My shields are gone!" came a sudden cry from his companion. Almost instantly Nuron's ship dove underneath his, using his craft as cover. 

Close to despairing Luke thought hard on what to do. With her shields out of commission she could never make the jump to hyperspace safely. "Stay with me!" he yelled. "Whatever I do you copy!"

"Affirmative!"

Coaxing his ship up to more speed he dove for Laa'kuan. They could make it, he knew. If the cruiser continued its assault on the forces assembled at Kynda'bey they might provide distraction enough to let Luke and Nuron escape to the moon. 

"They are following us!"

A look at his radar confirmed the startled shout. The cruiser was indeed picking up speed and coming after them. And behind came even more enemy fighters. "Almost there!" Luke shouted back and tried to get his ship to fly faster. A sudden shriek ripped through his head and then he saw Nuron's scoutcraft tumble out of control. Immediately he changed course and dove after her. The two ships entered the moon's atmosphere just moments after one another and then Nuron's craft was plummeting toward the surface like a stone. 

Frantic, Luke tried to focus. The solution came to him all of a sudden and he reached out gently to nudge the plunging ship into a more stable descent. Then he started to slow its fall. It sailed over a wide plain and sat down in a cloud of dust and dry grass, burrowing into the arid soil until it finally came to rest against some obstacle Luke could not see. He settled his ship down beside Nuron's and popped the cockpit hatch open hurriedly. The dry air ground into his lungs harshly. Coughing, he jumped to the ground and cursed aloud when he got dust in his eyes. His ears filled with a loud roar and when he had blinked his eyes clear once more he found five star fighters that had settled around the two Chiss scoutcraft. Black, just as the cruiser, they glistened in the weak sunlight like the armored plates of Tatooine sand bugs. 

Ignoring them for the moment the Jedi hurried over toward Nuron's ship. The hatch stood open and he jumped up to balance precariously on the ship's nose to find the Zabrak gently trying to free Chi'in from his place in the back of the cockpit. When she turned her head to face him there were tears in her eyes.

"I think he didn't make it," she whispered, her voice choked with grief.

Luke shook his head. "Nonsense. He can't be dead now." The Noghri came awake with a loud cough. "See?" 

Chi'in opened his eyes and closed them again instantly. The light wasn't harsh, but it was brighter than he could deal with right now. So, secured in a dark little world, he listened to Luke and Nuron bicker and fuss over him contentedly. He was happy that they were safe and had managed to escape. Perhaps. He felt too weary to sit upright, so he let himself be lifted from the confines of the ship. 

"Chi'in," Nuron said softly. "Wake up. We need you." The Noghri smiled weakly. "We really need you. I mean it," she continued more urgently. With a small groan he fought his way back into consciusness once more. The Zabrak's golden eyes held relief and joy and Luke, peering over her shoulder down at the Noghri, wore a wide grin on his face. And then Chi'in saw the others. 

They were lanky and tall, their forms seemingly covered with short, chestnut fur, and they wore a sort of primitive flight suit. Bony headcrests potruded from the sides of their skulls like wings, and their long snouts made them look somewhat ridiculous. Their cobalt blue eyes were gazing at the trio expectantly, and the strange blasters they held in their three-fingered hands were aimed loosely at the trio of warriors.

"Can you understand what they are saying?" Luke stage-whispered and hooked a thumb in the direction of the aliens. 

"Help me sit up," Chi'in breathed and the arid air stabbed through his lungs mercilessly. Very carefully Nuron propped him upright, her arms supporting him gently. Luke turned toward the aliens and indicated the Noghri with a hand, as if introducing him to the rest. Chi'in could sense that the boy was indeed using his mind to suggest that Chi'in was the one who might be able to translate between the two groups and that they harbored no ill intent toward the aliens.

One of them gave a honking noise and immediately started talking to the one standing next to it. The other listened patiently, then hurried toward its ship and took off again. The apparent leader of the group then turned back to face the trio and slowly bent down to lay the blaster on the ground. Empty-handed it approached them cautiously. Luke moved out of its way politely and it paid him no more heed then. 

Dropping to its knees in front of Chi'in, it reached out to touch the bandage over his wound. It said something, a mixture of hoots and belches. Chi'in understood that it was concerned, that it had asked how he had received the wound. It clearly wanted to help. It was then, seeing the alien up close, that the Noghri noticed the subtle differences in its clothing, that set it off from the others. The edges of its cobalt eyes were painted a dark brown and the lines of paint winged out to form an intricate pattern over its headcrest. And it wore a small stone on a leather throng around its long neck. The stone was glimmering with a faint yellow sheen and Chi'in stared at it in fascination, wondering where he had seen one of those before. 

The being gazed at him for a long time, then looked over its shoulder and started jabbering at its companions. They hastened to comply and started building a shelter out of leather hides and steel rods taken from their ships. In almost no time it was finished, a small, rounded dome that offered protection against the dust. The leader of the group beckoned for Nuron to carry the Noghri into the makeshift hut.

Carefully balancing him in her arms the Zabrak gave him an encouraging smile. "Seems as if they want to help," she murmured under her breath.

"Perhaps that's just their way of preparing dinner," Luke commented drily, and Chi'in almost laughed. 

Then they were inside. The alien shooed Luke and Nuron from the confines of the hut after they had settled the injured Noghri on some furry skins on the ground. It turned toward him and again dropped down to its knees. The three fingers of its right hand gently probed at the edges of the wound before it removed the bandage. A low hiss escaped its snout and it honked mournfully. After a moment of hesitation it started unpacking something from its flightsuit. Vials, small leather sacks. Medicine of some sort, Chi'in guessed. 

The darkness of the hut was soothing and when the being started a low chant the Noghri relaxed some more. Humming to itself the alien half-closed its cobalt eyes. Then it unfastened the leather throng from around its neck and let the glowing stone swing above the injured warrior's torso like a pendulum. Seeing that light above his head he finally remembered where he had seen something like this before. The ceiling of the yammosk's grotto had been studded with these stones, or similar ones at least. He raised a hand slowly, fighting down the pain.

"What is this?" he asked breathlessly. A proud smile appeared on the alien's face. It garbled something, then pointed first at the stone, then at its chest. "Your home star?" the Noghri ventured softly. It seemed to pick up on the meaning of his words, for it nodded vigorously. 

Suddenly a clamor rose outside, and Chi'in could hear Luke and Nuron shout angrily. Concerned, the Sith tried to rise, but the alien pushed him back down gently and rose to open the tent flap. Outside two of its companions had moved to block Luke and Nuron from coming closer. Two others were striding toward the hut's entrance briskly, a familiar figure walking between them. Al'than'erudo. His glowing red eyes seemed more fearsome than before, and his handsome features bore some bruises. In addition to his shackled hands that could only mean one thing: he was a prisoner. No wonder Luke and Nuron were so upset. 

Once the trio was inside the hut the aliens' leader let the tent flap fall close again. The two beings who had escorted the Chiss in roughly forced him to his knees. His glowing eyes were fixed on the ground, and his expression was decidedly blank. But the Noghri could sense pride and determination in the commander. The leader said something to the Chiss, unmistakably an order. Looking up, Al'than'erudo met Chi'in's startled glance.

"These are the Star People," he said. "Their leader is Nolyane, the Keeper of the Star, or Star Keeper. I will translate for you."

Yana was seated at the edge of the transmission field, not wanting the Grand Admiral to notice her while she listened to his conversation with Roj Kell. The ancient Sith stood in the middle of the field, his tall figure clad in black, and the faint, mocking smile on his lips that she had come to loath. It always made him appear as if he had seen something the others had not, something unpleasant, probably. But the Grand Admiral was not inclined to play any games. 

"Rest assured that you will pay for your part in this invasion," he was just saying, his face a study of icy consternation. "Since you agreed to talk to me I assume you actually have something to say. If all you intend to do is gloat, please say so now and spare us both a useless conversation."

"Gloat? No, surely not," Kell answered calmly. "And since you were the one who initiated this 'conversation' I suggest you pose your questions now and don't waste my time."

Touché. Yana felt a smile creep onto her face. Watching those two square off against one another was certainly inspirational. Thrawn kept silent for a heart-beat, as if waiting for the other to say something else. "Finished? Good. I want information on the invaders. Who are they? Are they the Zush'Jem Master Chi'in spoke about?"

Roj Kell inclined his head gravely. "They call themselves Yuuzhan Vong. A nomadic people, if you will."

"They do not seem to originate from this galaxy –"

"Really?" the Sith interrupted Thrawn instantly. "Have you engaged them yet?"

"Yes, and – "

"In space combat?"

"Yes."

"So no ground battles yet. I see. They originate from this galaxy, Grand Admiral. You will find that they have developed most effective strategies and tactics against our standard defenses. So far they have never met an enemy they could not defeat."

"Their secret?"

"A creature. They call it yammosk, war coordinator. That's what it does. Coordinate their troops to achieve greater eficiency."

"It is said that Palpatine used to deploy much the same technique, sometimes."

"True. But the yammosk is something different. Very powerful, if fully grown."

"You have met them?" the Grand Admiral asked briskly.

"I have studied them, yes. They are heretics, all of them."

"What does that have to do with anything? And in what regard should they follow heresy?"

The ancient Sith smiled politely. "Forgive me for a poor choice of words. They are fake, contradictory and fervent. In short, they are what I would sum up as fools."

"Powerful ones, as you have just admitted," Thrawn replied, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Fervent belief is the worst state of mind. The most dangerous. People who are desperate always have hope to cling to. Fervent believers have nothing but their faith. The faith of the Yuuzhan Vong is fake."

"Is that so? A matter of perspective, I assume. But how can we defeat them? Perhaps we could talk of strategy instead of holding a theological debate?"

"The Yuuzhan Vong believe in warfare. So you had better be prepared to enter a discussion on theology."

Again Thrawn hesitated. Then he gave a nod. "Go ahead, please."

"According to the Yuuzhan Vong the god Yun-Yuuzhan sacrificed parts of himself to create the world. Therefore bodily sacrifice is viewed as path to approaching the gods. Different sects existent, each worshipping one of their gods. Priests and warriors alike try to gain as much of a likeness to their respective gods as possible. Call it vanity, for it has become nothing else than that. The higher the rank, the greater the sacrifice required. The major gods apart from Yun-Yuuzhan are Yun-Yammka, the slayer, god of war, and Yun-Harla, the trickster goddess. It is said that the gods first created another being as their heir, but a Yuuzhan Vong warrior slayed the beast and was elevated in its place." For some reason the ancient Sith gave a mirthless smile at that. "Natural selection, you see?"

"Yes, I do. Battle and trickery? This does sound a bit mundane."

"It is. But their religion has been surrounded with so much pomp and procedure over the centuries that the mundanity of the entire thing is hardly apparent to the masses. Another thing. The Yuuzhan Vong despise anything purely technological. Machines are abominations in their eyes."

"Any reason why?"

"To my knowledge they view replacing living creatures for machines as sacrilege." Again a smile, and those pale eyes held a distant fire Yana could not quite understand. The Grand Admiral seemed to ignore it.

"Their presence seems to elude Force-users," Thrawn mused aloud. "Do you know how that can be possible?"

"Yes."

The Chiss gazed at his counterpart expectantly, but Roj Kell did not seem inclined to say any more on that matter. Yana, who had been hanging from her seat by now, following the conversation in utter fascination, felt her shoulders sag in disappointment. Why was the old man always so keen on keeping secrets? It was frustrating. 

Lips twitching in disdain Thrawn seemed to share her sentiments. But he did not let his impatience show. Instead he continued casually: "What about your reasons for inviting those beings back into our galaxy? And why send them against the Chiss?"

"To complete the circle of life. They had no choice but to return here. Better now than later."

"What do you mean, they had no choice?"

"Because, Grand Admiral, a race that has no territory of its own will perish sooner or later. Do not worry, though. I have the greatest faith in you and your allies."

Thrawn bared his teeth in a mock-smile. "That is so reassuring, Lord Kell."

"Isn't it, though?" the ancient Sith replied, a satisfied expression on his lined face as he folded his arms across his chest. 

"You didn't tell him everything," Belana accused him as they made their way back to his quarters. Looking at her in startled bewilderment he shook his head.

"Of course not! That is not for him to know."

"But what you told him won't help him much," she reasoned calmly.

"It wasn't meant to," Kell snapped impatiently. "If I had wanted to help them I never would have let the Yuuzhan Vong get past Kynda'bey."

"But you did. Why?"

He smiled to himself. "A trap. They won't realize it, and neither will Thrawn. But then, sometimes it is better to let people believe in destiny."

Belana pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Then you are finished playing around? Is that it?"

"Yes." Heaving a sigh he seemed to relax somewhat, and Belana could almost see how he was changing, now that the weight of responsibility had been taken from his shoulders. "My journey is over," he continued softly. Stopping short he turned to look out of one of the many viewports that dotted the giant hallway, a gesture Belana recognized from his days of captivity in the Jedi Temple over two thousand years ago. The same longing was apparent in his features, the same calm contentment and quiet power. 

She walked up to him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder, as she had done a hundred times before. "So what happens now?"

His pale eyes did not seem to want to meet her gaze. "I am free now," he explained. "Free to do what I want, to make my own choices. There is no duty any more. No anger, no fear, no death, no rules. None at all."

"The way you say it ..." her voice trailed off into uncertainty. An old pain was returning to her soul, the fear of losing him. Now that his Jer'fra was done, she would no longer be his guardian. "What about your successor? Will you leave him in the dark, too?"

He gave a low chuckle. "That would be something! No, of course not," he added, a bit calmer. 

Belana wanted to laugh with him, at his impish smile, the merry twinkle in his eyes, but all of a sudden the weightless light of the Force seemed to turn to molten lead around her. Gasping in shock, she involuntarily dug her fingers harder into Kell's shoulder. He did not seem to notice. His pale eyes narrowed into cold slits and his voice was a mere hiss, full of hatred and anger, when he said a single word: 

"Irek."

Abla was running ahead of the Royal Guardsmen to intercept Yana, before Sarreti could get to her. Out of breath he skidded around a corner and almost broke into relieved tears when he found her alone. 

"Yana!"

Looking up from her reading she gave him a warm smile. "My love, you are early."

"Irek is coming here!" he pressed on as he joined her. "You must see him now!"

"What? Why?" she asked, startled. 

"Because if you do not get to him first Kell will kill him."

"What!" she exclaimed, suddenly outraged. Rising from her seat abruptly, the Empress frowned. "I had ordered him to keep in the background, until we could be certain whether Irek could still be redeemed or not. How dare he!" Without paying any heed to her lover she started for the door, where her escort was just arriving. "Irek Ismaren is supposedly inside the complex," she declared haughtily. "You will locate him and lead me to him."

"Your Majesty," the lead guardsman tried, "Counselor Sarreti gave us strict orders – "

"You will obey!" the Empress retorted. 

"Yes, Your Majesty," the man explained hastily. 

A few moments of quiet conversation between the guardsmen followed, then the leader nodded toward Yana and turned into a side corridor that led toward the throne room. Following him, the Empress and her consort were immediately surrounded by the rest of the guards. They reached the throne room just moments before Irek arrived and Yana waved the guards away with an elegant twist of her hand.

Irek stood in the giant doorway, his gaunt face and feverish gaze indicating that he had not fared well since his flight from the Executor. Abla discreetly scanned his wiry body for visible injuries, recalling Solo's report from the happenings at Nar Shadaa. But Irek held himself proudly. Yet when Yana elegantly rose from her throne and glided across the floor to meet him, Abla thought he saw the boy's lips quiver with emotion.

"Welcome, Irek," the Empress said softly, her voice warm and full of fondness. She carefully lay her arms around Irek's shoulders and hugged him close. "Welcome home, brother," she whispered. 

Abla felt the sincerity of her words clearly, was moved by her great, noble gesture, but then he noticed a shadow moving along the hallway, toward the throne room. Roj Kell did not enter, though. Instead he stood very still, watching. When Yana disengaged from her brother again Irek's eyes were filled with tears. Yet he was trying hard to convey an air of haughty indifference.

"Thank you," he replied hoarsely, but then his voice hardened again. "I have come to claim what is mine. Mine alone. For being my sister, and for having proven your loyalty to me, Yana, you shall live."

His preposterous arrogance enraged Abla no end, but he remained mute, even though he was itching to leave his place standing next to the throne. The Empress gazed at the boy in silence for what seemed an eternity. In the end she took a step aside, her left arm extended toward the throne. 

"I will not stand in your way, Irek," she explained quietly.

Her brother stared at the throne, seemingly taking no notice of Abla at all, and licked his lips nervously. His blue eyes widened and his face turned even paler. And then Abla understood what Yana was doing. In offering the boy what he thought was his destiny she showed him that he had been mistaken. This was not what he had been trained for. He was no leader. And he was smart enough to realize that he would never be a ruler either. Abla saw Roj Kell's head come up with interest at Yana's move, and he fancied seeing a smile on the ancient Sith Lord's lips. But then this triumphant moment was shattered brutally. Whirling toward the Empress, his face turned into an ugly snarl, Irek thrust out his right hand and a bar of blue light shot out from his palm, hitting Yana square in the chest.

"No!" he screeched. "I will not be used again!"

Yana's body slid to a halt halfway across the floor and Abla rushed over to her with a fearful cry. "Yana!" 

But before he could reach her his body was flooded with incredible pain. He hit the floor hard and his eyes turned toward Irek, disbelieving. Blue lightning filled the throne room, and the air stank of burning ozone and charred flesh. A roaring fire of madness burst from the boy's blue eyes as he advanced on the slicer slowly. 

"You will not be able to protect her from my wrath," Irek pressed out between gritted teeth, each word sounding forced and distant. 

Then, with a loud boom, the double doors to the throne room closed, and Abla lost his consciousness. 

Irek was startled by the sudden crash and spun around to face the entrance again. A tall man stood there, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his long, black robes somehow familiar. The piercing gaze in the stranger's pale eyes frightened Irek, and he retreated a step or two when the man started toward him. 

"Finally we meet, little one," the stranger said softly, and his voice seemed to fry Irek's brains. It was beautiful, that voice, unlike anything he had ever heard before. It was the sweet chiming of silver bells sailing over the deep hum of the ocean's surf. It was incredible.

Finding his way blocked Irek fumbled along the arms of the throne and dropped into the seat clumsily. "Who are you?" he asked, confused.

"I am your future," the other replied, and a smile appeared on his lips. It was not a nice smile.

Irek frowned. "My future?" he repeated, uncomprehending.

"Exactly."

"Do I know you?"

"I doubt it."

"Then why're you here?" Irek tried, feeling uncomfortable with that stranger so close. There was something eerie about the man's appearance.

"Because I wanted to see for myself what has become of my student's little experiment."

"What experiment?"

"A weapon. Deadly, invincible and, perhaps, indestructible. He was always looking for the ultimate weapon, once he realized that his powers alone would never be enough."

"You are talking about my father," Irek stated, revelation coming suddenly.

"Am I?" the stranger replied innocently. 

"Emperor Palpatine was my father," Irek explained, not realizing that the man knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Oh. Yes. I seem to remember now." A low growl rose from the stranger's throat and made Irek jump. 

Shifting uneasily in his seat he averted his eyes and saw Yana lying motionless on the floor. Aghast, he jumped up from the throne and hurried toward her. "Yana!" What had happened to her?

"Stay away from her, boy," the stranger hissed, and that menacing sound froze Irek effectively. Risking a glance over his shoulder he saw the man come closer. Irek hunched his shoulders unconsciously, fearing punishment. "You are not worthy of her love. You are not worthy of anything," the other continued icily.

Irek turned to face his adversary. He raised his chin haughtily and he could sense the darkness just within his reach, awaiting his command. "Have a care how you address me. I am the Emperor's son, and his heir."

The white-haired stranger laughed out loud. "Very droll. The weapon wants to be its own master? How endearing."

Irek felt blood shoot up into his face in embarrassment and confusion. "I am no weapon."

"Wrong. You are the result of a genetic experiment, designed to be just that, a weapon. Your creator surely never cared for you to become his heir."

Mouth hanging open the boy tried to gather his wits again. "But that is not true – "

"Most things we do not want to believe turn out to be true," the stranger explained coldly. "I understand your sentiments, in a way. The Emperor used you, your mother, your sister, even me. None of us were given a choice in the matter. Now that he is gone we are free to choose again."

"He used you too?" Irek was even more confused now. "How?"

The stranger now stood directly in front of him and his hand came up to tap the boy's forehead gently. "Your mind. That is mine. Palpatine stole it from me, to gain power over me, to command my knowledge. You have inherited his strength in the Force, and my mind to aid it. You are a unique being, Irek Ismaren."

Eyes widening Irek let out a loud gasp as everything fell into place. Could it be? Hope spread throughout his soul, hope and fervent longing. His voice was no more than a whisper when he asked, eyes cast downward timidly: "Are you my father?"

"No," the stranger replied, very softly, his voice seemingly floating through Irek's mind. "But in a way, even though I very much regret to say it, you are still my child."

Coming to again, Yana bit back a pained cry. A curtain of tears was obscuring her vision and a small sob escaped from between her lips as she remembered what had happened. "Oh, Irek," she breathed, heart-broken. It was too late for her little brother, too late. But then her searching gaze fell on the man lying not far away, his brown eyes staring up at the ceiling in frozen horror. "Abla!" In her hurry to reach him she crawled across the floor, and her hand frantically wandered over his chest and neck, searching for any sign of life. There was nothing. 

"He is dead."

The terribly beautiful voice rang like the bells of doom in her head and plunged her into a bottomless pit of despair. Yana felt her throat constrict, choking her, and her heart turned into an icy lump of loss and sorrow. Abla was dead. He was truly gone, as her vision had foretold her, taken away from her by her brother, of all people. 

__

Oh, Irek.

She raised her head slowly, so very slowly, as if the air around her were congealing into lead. Roj Kell was looking down at her calmly, and she saw death in his eyes. Not her death, not Abla's ... Her gaze shifted instantly to the boy standing at his side, blue eyes wide and face drawn with fear and crushing defeat. 

She could see the similarities between them clearly now. The height, the lanky frame, the same eyes and hair texture. Yet Irek was so much more innocent than his father, just a child, really. Yana saw the pain of rejection in his eyes, of profound loss. He was like a dark beacon of confusion, hurt and raw power. None of that was apparent on his father's features. As cold as ever the ancient Sith stood next to the boy, ignoring him so pointedly that Yana felt her heart clench in sorrow and sympathy once more. Irek had had no one who really understood what he felt inside, no one who understood what it was like to be raised as a tool, not a living, feeling being. But now he had her...

"Irek," she whispered, and a sad smile found its way onto her lips. With an anguished wail he dropped down to his knees before her and, guided by a desperate need, his shaking hands found hers at last. She squeezed his cold fingers gently, sensing his confusion, the horrible truth that threatened to shatter his mind completely. 

"Everything will be all right now," she continued in a hush, "you will see. I forgive you, Irek. Do you hear me?" His blue eyes turned on her with pleading in them, but she could see that he did not truly understand what she was telling him. Drawing herself upright she lay a hand against the side of his face, his cool skin clammy underneath her touch, and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. "I forgive you," she repeated once more, feeling peace spread throughout her own soul, consoling her. 

"Too late," Roj Kell snarled viciously and suddenly Irek was torn from her embrace.

"Nooooooooo!" Yana jumped to her feet with a wordless shriek and rushed at the tall Sith Lord, her eyes meeting her brother's terrified gaze. But she knew she would be too late. 

Long fingers locked over Irek's jaw with icy precision Kell gave the boy's head a sharp twist. Yana gasped aloud, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in horror. When he let Irek's body slide to the floor casually her resolve was broken completely. Falling to her knees beside him she was crying her heart out. Dead, blue eyes were staring back at her, purveying an accusation, a call for help. Then the doors banged open and Franzis Sarreti stormed toward them without breaking stride. Right on his heels the Royal Guardsmen crowded into the throne room. 

"Get out!" she screeched at them and threw a hand out to indicate the door in an imploring gesture. "Get out right now!"

In silence they left again, leaving her alone with Sarreti and Kell. Her mind seemed numb, bereft of emotion, as she mussed Irek's black hair affectionately. Finally, without a word, she rose again and walked over to kneel beside Abla. When she bent forward to press a slow kiss to his lips, that were still parted to form a silent scream, she felt tears fall from her eyes. Gently, she closed his eyelids and smiled warmly down at him. "I love you," she told him softly. When Sarreti offered his hand to help her rise she pushed it away. For a brief moment she stood over her dead love and closed her eyes, only to see her brother there, his young life ended so violently. 

Turning away she walked over to the throne and seated herself wordlessly. Her eyes gazed at the two men standing in front of her unseeing, but she did not need to see now. She did not need to feel, she did not need to suffer. "Counselor Sarreti."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"As of now Lord Kell's service to the Empire is ended."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your guardsmen have failed to prevent the murder of my brother, Irek Ismaren. I suggest you find new ones. Have the others executed."

This time his answer was longer in coming. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Dismissed, Counselor."

She waited until the door had clicked shut behind him before she focused on the Sith Lord facing her. His pale eyes seemed expectant, yet unafraid. Yana knew perfectly well why she had not ordered Sarreti to have the old man killed on the spot. If she loosened her soldiers on him here he would not hesitate to start a massacre. But she did not intend to let him get away unpunished either.

"Why?" was all she asked.

"Had I let him live you would never have realized that he was the bait your father set out for you. No matter how strong you think you are, Yana, he would have changed you for worse in the end."

She bit back a wail of deprivation and gritted her teeth before answering. "Yet I might have managed to change him for the better instead."

"Not at a time like this. You have to be hard now, to yourself, to your counselors and warriors. Mercy and forgiveness are not feelings you can afford right now. You see, had he stayed by your side you would have had no choice but to use him as a weapon. And in doing so you would have doomed yourself to the Dark Side."

Yana realized the truth of his words with great reluctance. Why did it have to hurt so? "And Abla?"

"He surprised me. I thought you had won him over already."

Her eyebrows rose in fake consternation. "You? Surprised?"

He shrugged. "It happens."

"And now?"

"You choose, Yana. You alone."

She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again she could feel the deadly ice in them herself. "You are not welcome on Byss any longer. The only reason why I do not order your death right now is because I know I would never survive that command. But rest assured that I will get my revenge." She leaned toward him threateningly, her eyes narrowing. "I will never forget this. Neither should you. And now, Lord Kell, get out of my sight."

TBC

Author's Note:

Again, thanks for the praise. Would you believ that I have already written up to Chapter 29? So that's the secret of why I can post so fast. Hehe.


	24. Chapter 23 - Passing the Flame

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Chapter 23 – Passing the Flame

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For once Belana did not find even the tiniest spark of forgiveness or affection in her heart when she stood facing her lover. "You are mad!" she shouted at him, but he only continued smiling at her placidly. "You killed your own son! And what for? As a lesson to his sister!

I thought you had stopped fooling around!"

He nodded in agreement. "Very true. This is no game, Belana. I am deadly serious."

"What about?" she grated out, her voice quivering with outrage. 

"Being Cor'dan also means standing back to let destiny go its way, but I am free of that obligation now. I can act as I see fit. I do not have anything to prove, or a legacy to ensure." His eyes narrowed coldly. "No mercy toward the enemy, Belana. No restrictions. I will kill whoever I need to kill and I will do whatever I think is necessary."

She gazed at him in amazement and horror. "What?" her voice broke. "Why?" she stammered, confused.

"I don't think you would understand, my love. You do not share my belief."

"Then you have found your faith again?"

"Oh yes. And I intend to live it," he whispered as he wrapped her in his arms. His lips buried into her soft hair and Belana closed her eyes, returning his gesture. Standing together for a long while neither spoke. But the Jedi Master had a lot of questions. It just didn't feel like the right time to pose them. "To'e," he said suddenly, his enchanting voice bringing tears to her eyes. "My love, you must leave now," he explained softly.

"No," she answered and cuddled closer, "I don't want to. I fear what you might do."

"You cannot stop me, Belana. You never could."

His words stung at her heart mercilessly and she raised her head to look at him, hurt marring her features. When her love had been the sole obstacle in his path he had killed her, if with regret. Why did he have to remind her of that just now? Why did he have to be so cruel? Setting her jaw she shook her head with determination. "And you cannot make me go," she replied stubbornly. 

He gave her a tender smile. "I am Cor'dan."

"You _were_ Cor'dan," she pointed out.

Kell gave a soft laugh. "It is not a job you can simply discard. I will be Cor'dan for as long as I am alive." Kissing her deeply he made her feel like a helpless girl, not the grown woman and Jedi Master that she was. It felt as if no time at all had passed between when she had first met him and her death, as if she were still the innocent warrior who had fallen in love with her enemy. When he drew away again she felt a tear slide down her cheek. 

"Goodbye, Belana," he said and smiled at her warmly. "I will see you again soon." And then he was gone.

Belana found herself standing in the Council Chamber of the Jedi Temple. It was deserted, safe for her glowing presence and that of a stocky human. Hagen Dycos was smiling at her. "There you are," he said by way of greeting. "You are late."

"Where is he going?" she asked no one in particular, and she did not really expect Hagen to answer. But the Jedi Master walked over to her quietly, his emerald eyes full of understanding. 

"It is always hard to let go of someone you love. But he wants to return to you. Do not despair. He will come back."

She looked at him out of large brown eyes. "I am afraid, Hagen. He is going to do something foolish. And where that man goes disaster follows behind."

The blonde Jedi smiled grimly. "Good. Then it will be directed at the Yuuzhan Vong." 

"Why them? What is it about them?" Belana asked, uncomprehending.

"To him they are a bunch of children who have not learned their lessons about life yet. Ignorants. He has no patience with those. You saw what he did to Irek," Hagen concluded with a shrug. 

"So he will fight them."

"Yes. He will use any means available, including whatever troops Thrawn has in that territory."

"But I do not understand why he has chosen to end it that way. The way it began."

His gaze softened somewhat. "He can never reclaim his innocence, Belana. You have to accept that. But in the deepest depth of his heart and soul he is much more compassionate, much more generous, than you can know. _You_ have taught him that."

She knew exactly what he meant. For all the power he commanded and despite the cold rationale that dictated most of his actions, Kell had still retained the defensive stance of a guardian. Whenever an enemy advanced toward him he would take a step back, if only to draw that adversary into an elaborately spun trap. Aggression was not something he used lightly. But that was changing now. And Belana knew exactly where it would lead.

"I know," she replied at last in a hushed whisper. "I wish he had allowed himself to show it more."

"Too late for that," Hagen replied quietly. "It is up to his successor to redeem the Cor'dan. That is what he is doing right now. The final test, the hardest, I believe."

"What does it cost?" Belana asked, feeling afraid for some reason.

"Forgiveness."

Yana walked back toward her private quarters, still feeling numb. She had left the caretakers to bring the bodies to the fortress' morgue, but she knew she could not run from her grief for long. She could just postpone it for a while, perhaps. Franzis Sarreti was waiting at her door and he wore a carefully blank expression on his scarred face. She also noticed that he did not quite meet her eye. She walked past him to open the door, but paused before she went inside.

"Counselor, about the guardsmen I ordered executed – "

"Yes?"

"That was a foolish reaction." She risked a look at him and it did not even hurt all that much.

"Knowing you, you will have waited for me to come to my senses before relaying that order anyway, so I would appreciate it if you just didn't mention it again."

A rare smile appreared on his face. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Counselor." Brushing past him she closed the door between them. For a moment she stood there, her mind blank, her heart still. Then she ran for her bedroom and buried into the soft blankets and pillows, seeking some comfort she knew she would not find. But the soft fabric drowned out her screams of anguish, and hid her tears effectively. And for that, and only that, she felt very grateful. 

"But I _did_ manage to get a message out to the Shoothing Star, and I am almost positive that they received it," Al'than'erudo was just saying. "They should be with us in a few days at the latest."

The Star Keeper had forbidden them to use any open fire or even light stoves for illumination or cooking. So Luke and Nuron sat together with Al'than'erudo, chewing ration bars in the dark. Night on Laa'kuan was cold, but at least the winds had died down and the dust clouds with them. Looking up at the black sky Luke studied the stars intently, but everything seemed quiet. The Yuuzhan Vong had not followed them here, it would seem. For the tenth time or so he let his eyes wander over to the indistinct shape of the small hut, where Chi'in was asleep and was watched over by the Star Keeper herself. Around Luke and his companions the rest of the Star People had made camp in a loose formation. Sentinels had left the camp to venture around the premises. Everything was quiet. But when the tent flap was flung back and the Star Keeper left the small hut Luke jumped to his feet impatiently.

"How is he?"

Nolyane waited until Al'than'eruodo had translated the question. She answered calmly in a series of quiet, soothing hoots. The Chiss turned toward the young Jedi and gave him a small smile. "She says Master Chi'in is as well as can be expected. He has lost a lot of blood, but he is very strong. He will survive."

Luke nodded. Despite Chi'in's albeit weak pleading Nolyane had not agreed to free the commander. He was a prisoner of war for the time being. But he was allowed to wander around the camp unrestrained. Still, when the Star Keeper moved closer to join Luke and Nuron she gave the Chiss a pointed stare and waited for him to retreat further back before she settled down on the cold ground. Kneeling some way behind her Al'than'erudo was just close enough to serve as translator. Nolyane gestured toward Luke and bade him to sit down again. After hours of waiting he had a lot of questions to ask.

"Why are they here?"

Relating the request the Chiss warrior listened to the answer closely, then gazed at Luke out of glowing red eyes that shone faintly in the dark. "The gods are angry," he replied. 

"What? What does she mean?"

Again Nolyane answered, and this time she took longer to explain. Finally Al'than'erudo nodded. "The gods have punished the Star People, killing many of their ships and warriors. The gods demand respect. Therefore the Star People have come to perform a rite of cleaning and asking forgiveness."

"Here?"

"My guess is that Lord Kell's attacks against diverse groups in the Unknown Regions hit the Star People too. I think I remember we found debris from their ships among the wreckage."

A loud belching hoot from Nolyane cut Al'than'erudo's speculations off, and she twisted around to glare at him angrily. He met her cobalt blue eyes calmly. She added some vicious mutterings to the call for silence, then turned back toward Luke with an earnest expression. She extended a hand toward the Chiss and chatted on as if nothing had happened. But the young Jedi saw the Chiss lower his head in embarrassment. 

"The Star Keeper apologizes for her inability to keep her servants in line," he translated. 

"If you wish it she will have this insubordinate subject punished."

Nuron, sitting at Luke's side and holding his hand, snickered quietly. "Tempting," she commented in some amusement. 

"Ssh!" Luke admonished her. "This is serious. Commander, please ask her when they have last visited this world."

There seemed to be some difficulty, for Al'than'erudo and Nolyane discussed this for quite some time. In the end the Chiss frowned deeply. "As far as I can tell the last time they came here was about fifty years ago. Apparently it requires a guide to find the place of prayer. That guide would be provided by the Jem'luz. By the way, the Star People call them Abernake."

"A guide? I assume this place of prayer is the labyrinth Chi'in spoke of?" The Chiss nodded.

"But that means that Chi'in knows the way!"

"The way, yes. I doubt, though, that he knows the proper procedures to appease the gods of the Star People."

"So, when we say 'guide, what we really mean is 'priest'?"

"I think so."

Luke felt a mirthless laugh work its way up his throat. "I see. How unfortunate that the Chiss decided to annihilate the Abernake. Does she know?"

Al'tha'erudo shook his head slighty and his glowing eyes bored into the Jedi's head warningly. "I don't think it would be a smart move to tell her right now."

"No," Luke agreed. He look over at Nuron, seeking assurance in her golden gaze. A smile was apparent on her features and she leaned over to kiss him tenderly. 

"You know," she said, "somehow I believe this is the test Chi'in spoke of. If Lord Kell was the one who trained these priests, then a Jedi should manage to reconstruct the procedures."

"Chi'in couldn't."

"He didn't try," she reminded him quietly. "He did not know what we do now."

Sighing, Luke rested his head against her shoulder, ignoring Nolyane and Al'than'erudo completely. "I guess it is worth a try," he conceded at last. "But I have a bad feeling about this." He glanced up toward Kynda'bey worriedly. "It is so quiet up there. I wonder what they are up to."

The Millennium Falcon touched down on one of the first priority landing pads atop the governor's residence. Boba Fett had declined such an opportunity and had insisted on keeping a low profile. He would join them later on, once he had made some contacts on planet. Han did not like letting the bounty-hunter get out of his sight, but what choice did he have? Fett had brought his own ship, after all. And he was not answerable to Han. He turned his head to look at his companion, and saw her dark eyes fixed straight ahead. Suddenly, as if waking from some daydream, she shook her head and gave him a smile. 

"I will go and tell Andarack that we have arrived," Padmé said.

"Yeah," Han grumbled as she rose to leave the cockpit. "And tell him he's to behave himself!" he shouted after her. 

He did not like the Noghri either. It had been quite a fight he'd had with Padmé over the alien's fate. He had insisted on turning him over to New Republic Intelligence, but she had pointed out that they could hardly hold an agent employed by a prospective ally. As if they were suddenly allied with the Empire! To Han's knowledge, all Yana Dar had agreed to was a cease fire. No aggressions toward the New Republic until the threat in the Unknown Regions had passed. That was all. And, just like his future mother-in-law, he did not trust 'Counselor' Franzis Sarreti at all. 

Grumbling under his breath the Corellian finished powering down the ship and went to join Padmé and her bodyguard at the exit hatch. Andarack was watching him patiently out of large black eyes. He had recovered quickly from Irek's attack, and again Han had been astounded at the resilience of those short, wiry aliens. Andarack was easily as tough as his great-uncle. Great-uncle! Whoever had seen Chi'in in action would never suspect him to be anyone's great-uncle! He slapped a hand on the hatch release and nodded at the Noghri. 

"Let's go."

Preceding them the Sith slipped down the ramp and checked their surroundings swiftly. The door at the far side of the landing pad swooshed open to reveal Leia standing there. She rushed toward the newcomers immediately, arms thrown wide apart in greeting. Han could see the laughter on her face, and it made his heart sing with joy. She bounded into his embrace giggling like a school-girl. Following her at a more dignified pace Tomas Piett joined the group quietly. He gave Andarack a startled glance, undoubtedly suffering the same momentary confusion Han had upon seeing the Noghri warrior for the first time. Then he bowed gracefully toward Padmé. 

"Your Highness. A pleasure to have you here. Captain Solo."

"I am also pleased to meet you again, Admiral," the former queen answered gravely. "Yet this is an unofficial visit. I simply wished to be with my daughter."

"I understand. Still no news from your son?"

"Alas, no," she replied sadly. "I hope he is all right." Suddenly her face brightened again. "So! How are the negotiations coming along?"

Leia laughed. "I thought this was unofficial?" She was eyeing Andarack somewhat warily too.

"It is," Han agreed and hugged her closer. "Just a little family outing."

"Father has already left –"

"I know," Padmé told her daughter quietly. "We talked."

"Oh. I see." Cuddling against Han, the princess sighed. "Well, the admiral and I had a hard day. I suggest we retreat toward my quarters and you tell me everything that happened to you so far."

Roganda followed the Dark Lord timidly, grateful for his large frame, that seemed like the perfect shield to hide behind. He did not seem to notice her uneasiness as they walked down the giant hallway toward the throne room. It was an exact duplicate of the one in the Imperial Palace on Coruscant, and that was one of the reasons that made her stomach flutter with memories and nervousness. The other reason was that she could not sense her son any longer. His presence had simply vanished, as if plucked from the Force itself. It was strange, unlike anything she had ever felt before. But perhaps it was nothing, perhaps – 

"I present Ambassador Anakin Skywalker, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Roganda Ismaren," the tall man who had led them here announced suddenly. 

Realizing that they had already arrived at the throne room, Roganda hesitated in entering. Yet the Dark Lord strode ahead briskly, his black-clad form fitting perfectly into the gloomy chamber. Roganda shivered. She would not have expected Yana Dar to share her father's taste in depressing decorations. The woman herself was seated on the throne, an indistinct, dark shape among shadows. Red-armored Royal Guardsmen flanked the walls in a ceremonial formation, the only spot of color apparent. Roganda nervously plucked at her purple dress, her eyes constantly searching. Perhaps Irek simply had not arrived yet?

"Welcome, Ambassador," Yana Dar intoned, her voice clear and strong. But her tone was utterly devoid of emotion.

"An honor, Your Majesty, to meet you here," the Dark Lord replied just as gravely. Stepping closer toward the throne, he bowed deeply. "On behalf of the New Republic, I bring greetings to the Empire."

"Thank you, Lord Skywalker. Your greetings are well received. I see you have brought a guest. Roganda Ismaren, please step forward."

Her throat was so dry and swollen that she could barely breathe, when she hurried to join the Dark Lord. Her heart clenched at seeing Yana Dar's face up close. It was pale, her skin almost translucent. She wore a high-collared black dress, and a black headdress rested on her brow. The veil that it included was raised to show the Empress' blue eyes clearly. They were no longer bright, but dead, and full of mourning.

"Your Majesty." She managed a shaky curtsy. "I prayed to find you well..."

"I am grateful for your concern, Roganda." The Empress' voice was trembling just a little bit. "I am – unhurt."

Roganda couldn't bear the uncertainty any more. Raising pleading hands toward the woman seated on the throne she asked: "My son?" 

For a long time the Empress kept silent, her features utterly blank. Then, very slowly, she rose from her seat and walked down the steps one at a time, her black robes trailing after her like the broken wings of a graceful bird. It was then that Roganda realized that Yana had grown into her role as Empress, that she filled it completely. Dropping her eyes, she held back a gasp when the taller woman stopped in front of her, but Yana gently cupped her chin in her hand and made her look into those frightening eyes again. A sad smile was playing along the corners of her mouth. 

"Your son has found forgiveness," she said, her voice breaking. "I want you to know that I never wished him harm, that I have loved him like the brother he always was to me. I am sorry, Roganda. You came too late," she finished in a hushed whisper.

Silent tears were pouring down Roganda's cheeks. She could see her grief mirrored in the Empress' gaze, could see the same pain there. When her legs gave way underneath her Yana caught her quickly and embraced her in quiet support. Rocking her in her arms tenderly, she whispered words of encouragement. And once she could sense that Roganda had found some of her strength again she pressed a kiss on her cheek and released her carefully. Immediately one of the guardsmen was there to stand watch over her. Roganda stared blindly at the floor, her back bowed with the horrible news. She was too late. Her little boy was dead... Too late. 

"How?" she asked at last, her voice hollow.

"His father murdered him in cold blood. Right here, where we stand."

"Roj Kell did this?" the Dark Lord demanded suddenly, sounding shocked. "And you let him go?"

"What choice did I have, Lord Skywalker?" Yana asked bitterly. "He is blinded by his own perspective. I do not understand how he could kill he his own flesh and blood at all."

"I know how," the Dark Lord said in a whisper. "He did not see Irek as his son. And if he did, he sacrificed him for something he thought more important."

Roganda saw Yana flinch. "You!" she screamed, furious revelation drowning out everything else. "He sacrificed him for you!" 

"Do not be ridiculous." The Empress' harsh reply cooled her temper instantly, and then Yana simply ignored her. "Lord Skywalker, under the circumstances I would appreciate it if you did not polong your stay here on Byss. I welcome the New Republic's recognition of my throne and title, of course. I will send some ships with you, and you will have my leave to make use of our resources."

"I appreciate that offer and accept it gladly, Your Majesty." The ambassador bowed gracefully, then looked up again to meet the Empress' eyes. "If I may say so, I am grateful that you are alive. And I share your grief. But you must look to the future. The answers to your questions can only be found there."

"Thank you," Yana answered with a small smile, before she turned toward the grieving mother once more. "Roganda, I would like you to stay here, with me. Would that be acceptable?"

Remaining silent, she merely gave a small nod. What choice did she have? "Can I see him?" she whispered quietly. 

"Of course. Lord Skywalker, forgive my abruptness. Counselor Sarreti will brief you on the most important bits of news until I join you. Please, Counselor?" The Empress nodded at the tall man who had received them at the hangar and he immediately turned toward the Dark Lord.

"If you would follow me, Ambassador." The two men left, and then it was only Yana and Roganda, apart from the guardsmen, but they did not count. All that counted was that Irek was dead. Meeting the Empress' blue eyes Roganda felt herself gain a little bit of the other woman's strength. 

"I really am glad that he did not hurt you," she ventured, uncertain. 

Yana shrugged. "He did try to kill me, but I was not injured badly." Her left hand came up to rest against her bosom. "It was the wound – here – that hurt me most," she added softly. "Abla did not survive the attack."

Gasping in surprise Roganda shook her head. "Oh, no! I am so sorry! I –" she broke off, tears obscuring her vision. "This is my fault," she sobbed. "I should have been there for him, I should have guided him..."

"Too late for regrets, Roganda. We cannot make the past undone, even though we both wish for it. Come," laying a hand on Roganda's shoulder, the Empress gently turned her toward a small door set into the left wall of the room, "let us go and say farewell."

"It is good for her to have someone at her side in these trying times," Anakin said quietly as he walked alongside Sarreti toward one of the citadel's many private meeting rooms. "Abla Othana is dead?"

"Yes. Irek Ismaren's doing. From what the Empress reported I am not at all sure whether he realized what he had done."

"I admire her for her strength. That she is willing to fight a war now proves her insight. A good choice, I think. She will be an adept ruler."

The counselor threw him a disbelieving glance. "Lord Skywalker, I want you to understand that we can speak freely. Whatever you may believe, I prefer plain speech over empty promises." He opened a door. "In here, please."

Entering the meeting room Anakin suppressed a tiny smile. So he had been right about Sarreti. No fool, that man, but dangerous in his own way. He obviously saw Yana as the icon she was, and he was watching over her like a brother. An over-protective one. Seating himself, Anakin waited for Sarreti to join him. The man's gray eyes were unfathomable, and he kept his emotions tightly under control. There was nothing the Dark Lord could perceive through the Force that could tell him anything about the counselor's intentions. Too bad. 

"Tell me, Counselor, was this entire affair your idea?" he asked at last. That had been something he had been wondering about for some time. Jix' report had not yielded any information on the man's motivations. All it had said was that Sarreti had been planning to depose Markhan and raise Yana Dar in his place, the same information Admiral Parck had given him. 

"What affair are you referring to, your lordship?"

"You know very well what I mean. I am not quite convinced that you acted on your own."

"What makes you think so?" Sarreti asked, curiosity plain in his eyes.

"It seemed too much of a coincidence that you would implement this scheme once Roganda Ismaren made her move. As far as I know she had no clue about your own scheme, so it was her initiative that triggered your plans. You are too young to have known about Irek from the court. And you only started using Markhan once Yana had agreed to helping Roganda. Am I right so far?"

"Yes," Sarreti replied with a small smile. "Go on, please."

"Erinin, Irek's bodyguard, was with Roganda from the beginning. What did he know?"

"Nothing. His sole directive was to protect Irek."

"And Othana? He must have known more. He worked with Markhan even longer than you did. First as an independent slicer, then as Imperial agent."

"He knew about Irek's special abilities. He was to keep an eye on Yana, to guide her steps, if necessary."

"So Erinin did not receive orders from you, but from Palpatine. Othana?"

"He worked with me."

"That does not answer my question," Anakin reminded him gently. "I will tell you what this was about. Palpatine instructed Erinin to protect his offspring, until the time was right for him to take over the boy's mind. His death made this order obsolete, but Erinin continued his task. Why? Because he felt an obligation to the boy and because he, like any Imperial agent, knew that Palpatine's plans always were more than what they seemed. Until something fundamental changed Erinin would continue protecting the boy. Yet you did nothing in regards to Irek. You let him run off after Thrawn unchecked. Because your orders were to let the boy go through a few tests. Andarack revealed as much."

"Andarack," the counselor repeated. "Whatever happened to him?"

"He is currently acting as my wife's bodyguard on Bilbringi."

"Excellent. And, of course, he did not succeed in his task. Fortunately."

"Why fortunately?"

Sarreti shrugged. "You see, Palpatine had not planned for the boy to take the throne. He would have been a convenient distraction for you, should you survive. Perhaps the boy would even have managed to destroy you. Then Yana would have had free reign to reestablish the Empire."

"What went wrong?"

"Irek proved more sensitive than anticipated. He was much more patient with Thrawn than I had thought. He valued the Grand Admiral's counsel, saw him as a father-figure of a kind. In short, he was useless as the weapon Palpatine had destined him to be."

"So you ordered Andarack to kill him, but Yana objected."

"Exactly. Yet Lord Kell decided that the danger had not passed. I agreed with him."

Anakin exhaled slowly. "Why did he kill him?"

"Yana Dar is a strong woman with a soft heart. Irek was weak and incredibly powerful. Not a healthy combination. His death at Lord Kell's hands took a decision from her that she would not have been able to make. One day her brother would have become too much of a danger. And then it would have been her, who would have had to order his death. An order she could not have issued." Leaning toward the Dark Lord Franzis Sarreti smiled. "You think me cold, Lord Skywalker, but I see it as an honor to be the shield for the Empress. She needs someone to perform the mean and dirty tasks her position requires. She may hate me for it, but she also appreciates what I do for her."

"What about you, Counselor? What is your shield?" Anakin asked quietly. But he already knew the answer, and then Sarreti gave it himself.

"Duty," he said. "Only that."

The Dark Lord nodded gravely. "I understand. But duty is not everything. You will learn that someday, the way I learned it." He gave Sarreti a tight smile. "And now we should return to that duty and make plans for the troop deployments. How many ships can you spare?"

Yana stepped into the morgue delicately, moving slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb the rest of the dead. At her side Roganda glided across the floor, a ghost among ghosts. Her pale face was hard like porcellaine and as fragile, and her black eyes held the ice of deepest grieving. It was so easy to understand, so easy to feel with her. But even though Yana herself had had some time now to become used to the facts she still felt sorrow stab at her heart at coming here once more. She knew it would not stop hurting for a long time. Silently the two women stepped up to the shiny metal biars that the bodies of Abla Othana and Irek Ismaren rested on. Both men had had their eyes closed, and in death they looked frighteningly alike. Peaceful, at ease. 

Roganda's trembling hand reached out to caress her son's cheek tenderly and tears were flowing freely down her face. Yana watched in fascination. Had she looked the same when she had stood above her love, when she had felt her heart break and her soul turn to ice? She remembered every second, every nuance of her emotions, her surroundings. It had been etched into her mind forever. She wondered briefly if that memory would ever fade. Somehow she doubted it. 

"I will never forgive myself for this," Roganda explained suddenly. "For as long as I live I will not forget that you were there with him, when – " Her black-eyed gaze found Yana's eyes. "I meant what I said back in the throne room. You were the reason why he had to die. With time and care he could have found his way, could have survived. It would have taken an effort, a great one, but I had set my hopes in his father, had prayed that he would teach him... But I suppose he found it more convenient to bend you to his views than take it upon himself to save this boy's soul."

Hurt by the other woman's accusations Yana could not speak at first. But then she shed her paralysis and reached out to grasp Roganda's hand. "I did not make that choice," she told her calmly. "I would have saved him, I would have given up everything to teach him. Kell knew that, I believe, and that was his reason for eliminating what he saw as a mere distraction. He hurt me too, Roganda, and I was serious when I said I loved Irek. I have forgiven him for what he did to Abla, and if I can forgive something like that you can forgive me for not having been able to prevent your son's death."

For a long time they simply looked at each other, reading one another's thoughts as if gazing into a mirror. Finally Roganda squeezed the Empress' hand with a nod. "I forgive you, Yana. And I am grateful for your caring. If I had no one, I do not know whether I would want to continue this miserable life I call mine. Thank you."

Enfolding the younger woman in her arms, Yana hugged her tightly. "Never think that your life is worthless. You are precious, just like Irek was. I want you to stay with me." She wiped away some tears from her eyes and smiled fondly. "I could use a friend now."

"Then I will stay," Roganda answered gently. "But there is one thing I must do first."

"Anything you need."

"Good." Her black eyes turned venomous when she disengaged from Yana's embrace. "I want revenge. I want my son's murderer dead. I want Roj Kell's head."

Grinning, Yana clasped her hand in both of hers. "That makes two of us," she agreed. "And I already have an idea who we could charge with that task."

Chi'in stumbled upright clumsily and darted through the tent-flap in his haste to give warning. Over the past couple of days he had concentrated on healing, had shut himself away from the memories that were still giving him some nightmares. But the silence in the Force was too much to bear. Indistinct shapes moved toward him and he wondered why there was no light. But then he heard a familiar voice call his name and he came to a panting halt next to Luke and Nuron, almost doubled over with the effort of running the short distance between the tent and his friends. 

"Nirauan," he gasped. "They will attack. They are already gone – "

Luke pounded his right fist into his left palm angrily. "Of course! That's why it is so quiet up there!"

At his side Al'than'erudo rose elegantly from his seat on the ground. "Then I assume Syndic Ech'an'dana will remain with the Grand Admiral's fleet to meet them. We should join them."

"What about them?" Nuron asked, nodding toward the Star People lounging not far off. "You think they will let you go? Let us go? My ship is damaged, yours is too, Commander. We rely on them for help. And Nolyane is bent on performing that rite before she concedes to anything else."

The Chiss nodded gravely. "True. But what if that rite fails?"

Luke turned to glance back at the Noghri. "Chi'in, you've been to the labyrinth. You must lead us there, so Nolyane can do her job and we can be off. Do you think you can find the way again?"

"Certainly," the Sith Lord told the young Jedi soothingly. "But I have no idea what you are talking about. What rite?" Luke explained it to him, with Al'than'erudo offering additional details that might have been lost in his translation. Listening closely, Chi'in felt his skin crawl with sudden dread. His black eyes turned up toward the sky, studying distant Kynda'bey. "The gods?" he repeated at last. He dropped to the ground unceremoniously, and his clawed fingers drew circles in the dust. No one dared break his concentration as he pondered this new information. The gods... From what evidence he had found here on what Luke insisted was called Laa'kuan, he had concluded that the Jem'luz had indeed been a deeply religious people. But apparently they had been more than just that. Luke had called them guardians, once, and perhaps that was even true. That the Star People had come here to worship was a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the exclusion of the Chiss from the peoples allowed to land on this world. Which prompted a certain question: if religion was what united these peoples, what difference was there between their beliefs and that of the Chiss? 

"Chi'in, what is it?" Nuron asked softly and edged closer toward him. Looking up he met her golden eyes hesitantly.

"Tell me," he began quietly, "what do you believe in?"

"The Force," she answered promptly.

"Luke?"

The young Jedi Knight hesitated. "Forgiveness," he said at last.

Chi'in suppressed a tiny smile. Then he turned toward Al'than'erudo. "Commander?"

"What kind of question is that to ask now?"

"An important one. So?"

"I believe in enlightenment. You would call it logic, I suppose."

Nodding to himself the Noghri sighed. "Yes, I guess I would. The Chiss were not allowed to participate in these rites because they would have destroyed the belief of these people. They would have tried to uncover the mystery of the planet, of the labyrinth. Because they did not understand it, but sensed the danger this place posed, they annihilated the Jem'luz, the only ones who knew the secret of the labyrinth. We all know Grand Admiral Thrawn. He would only have acted that way if he had been certain that what is hidden here was a weapon."

Luke's eyes narrowed somewhat. "A weapon? What sort of weapon?"

"You have sensed it, up there, have you not? The three worlds, Kynda'bey, Laa'kuan and Melyash form a triangle. I suggest one of the worlds contains the controls to the weapon, perhaps all. My feeling tells me the labyrinth is the key."

The Jedi's face lit up with revelation. "Yes! You are right!" Suddenly his face fell again. "Wait. So, whenever the people who worshipped here performed a rite the weapon was activated?"

Chi'in shrugged. "Who knows?"

Rising from his seat Luke joined Al'than'erudo. "Then we have to find out. Come morning we will leave. Commander," he said and regarded the Chiss pensively. "I would ask you to interpret for me when I tell the Star Keeper."

For a while the two men just stared at each other, and Chi'in knew very well what this was about. Luke was asking Al'than'erudo to surrender command to him. Finally the Chiss nodded. "It will be my pleasure, Master Skywalker."

The next morning saw everyone packing up. They would follow Chi'in's directions to a fitting landing site and go on from there on foot. Nolyane had insisted that the sacred place could only be approached like that, that starships and other vehicles were not permitted in the premises. Luke understood very well. The labyrinth was a place of prayer, deserving respect. Since Chi'in knew the way he would take the remaining intact Chiss scout craft and fly ahead, while the Star People followed in their ships and with Al'than'erudo, Luke and Nuron on board. 

It was a rough ride, with the dust storms making navgating the increasingly difficult terrain a game that required extreme skill. Rocks and craggy hills would appear suddenly, and the irregular surface made it difficult at times to rely completely on the ship's radar. Chi'in, of course, was experiencing no such difficulties. He was using his perception through the Force instead of navigational instruments. Luke threw a longing glance at the control panels from time to time as the ship lurched and shook in the grip of yet another heavy gale. And then it happened. The ship tilted to the left, losing balance, and suddenly they were falling freely. They hit the ground even before Luke could think of repeating his feat when he had saved Nuron's ship from smashing into the moon.The jolt that rang through his body nearly knocked him unconscious, but then someone grabbed his hand and dragged him out of his seat. Following Nuron in a daze he noticed the rest of the crew evacuating the ship in good order. Up front Al'than'erudo carried Nolyane's limp body in his arms and gently lay her into the waiting embrace of her people. Apparently she had been hurt during the crash.

The trio of warriors were the last to exit the downed ship, and Luke groaned softly when he saw the other ships that had flown with them in a similar state as their own, dotting the landscape in a radius of about one kilometer. A distant roar announced Chi'in's arrival as he drew his scoutcraft into a wide circle to join them. Dust swirls obscured their vision most of the time, and Luke had to extend his senses to keep track on the people milling about. He nodded toward Nuron, and the two of them quietly and politely began herding the Star People together. In the end they were all assembled around where Nolyane rested on the ground. Al'than'erudo, his glowing eyes fixed on something in the distance, stood above her. No one dared chase him away, and Luke understood that his move to save Nolyane had earned him his captors' respect. One of the warriors jabbered something at the Chiss and Al'than'erudo took his time in answering. Once he had ended the warrior bowed his head respectfully and turned pleading cobalt eyes on Luke.

"He wants you to heal her," Al'than'erudo explained.

"What? Why me? I am no healer!"

"You're leading this assignment, Master Skywalker," the Chiss reminded him, and Luke thought he could detect a hint of triumph in the other man's tone. 

Was he waiting for Luke to fail? And what would happen if he did not manage to heal Nolyane? Luke had a hard time not to look over at Nuron for confirmation, but he could sense her tense in anticipation of hostilities. He could not let that happen. But if Nolyane was injured that badly, if she died, what consequences would her death have for himself, the Zabrak and Al'than'erudo? Why did the Chiss look so damn smug? Then he got it. Stepping forward with a smile he lay a hand on the commander's shoulder and gently pulled him down with him as he knelt beside Nolyane. 

"If you cross me now you are dead," he said out of the corner of his mouth. The look in those glowing red eyes was exhiliarating. But Luke pushed his own pride away. "I know you are Force-sensitive. And I also know that the Star People would abandon you just as easily as they would kill me for failure of healing her. So _you_ will heal her. I know you can."

Surprise evident on his handsome features Al'than'erudo could only nod. Luke rose elegantly and took a step back, before he deliberately crossed his arms in front of his chest, giving the impression of a mildly disapproving commander who had given a menial task to his subordinate. It was how he imagined Father would look while standing on a ship's bridge during a fierce battle. He would not lose his calm, would not panic. He would analyse the situation and act, just as he himself had done just now. 

With apparent boredom he watched while Al'than'erudo let his hands drift above the Star Keeper's body, as if searching. The Force seemed to swirl around him in what Luke supposed where healing energies, and vanished into Nolyane's body. He could feel the strength in the commander's movements, could sense him direct the energies to where they were needed. After a moment longer the Star Keeper opened her eyes. The warrior who had put the request to Al'than'erudo jumped into the air with pure joy and rushed over to hug Luke. 

"All right, all right," he stammered, feeling a blush creep onto his face. He hadn't done anything! Al'than'erudo was smiling at him from where he still crouched at Nolyane's side. 

"It was nothing, okay?" Luke continued, confused, but didn't dare to fend off the enthusiastic warrior. 

"Doing nothing sometimes is everything," Chi'in, who had joined them in that quiet manner of his, commented drily. "It is not what you did yourself, Luke. It is your perception, what you made the commander do. It is your task you reward him, not theirs."

The young Jedi immediately walked over to help the Chiss rise again. He patted his shoulder amiably, feeling like a fool. "Well done," he said through gritted teeth. 

But he could easily identify the contempt the commander held for him. He was not happy to have leadership taken from him, not happy that Luke was ignoring his suggestions, that Nuron and Chi'in followed him more readily. Not happy at all that he had seen through his game. He would be trouble, that was for sure. 

"Perhaps I have another task for you," Luke told Al'than'erudo grimly. 

And so, half an hour later, they watched the single scout craft lift off with the commander piloting the small ship. Luke had charged him with bringing the news to Nirauan. Perhaps he could warn them in time. And what was more, this way he was out of Luke's way. Turning toward Chi'in, he held his head high, feeling a coldness settle over his features that he knew made him look impassive and indifferent. It was the mask of leadership he had seen so often on the faces of both Leia and their father. So he was a leader now, a guardian, as Nuron had named him. The Noghri and the Zabrak knew what was going on, of course, but he trusted them to stand with him, no matter what. The Star People were another matter altogether. They were gazing at him expectantly, Nolyane among them, surprised that he had sent his interpreter away, pleased that he had healed their Star Keeper and looking forward to having him lead them through their rite. Everything depended on his insight, as Chi'in had told him, but the Noghri had also implied that knowledge meant being able to identify the best asset to perform a mission. That he could do, had to, if they were to survive. 

He gave Chi'in a sharp nod. "Lead on, please."

"All right," the Noghri answered with a smile. "Let's take the scenic route."

TBC


	25. Chapter 24 - The Stand

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Chapter 24 – The Stand

Captain Lorth Needa did not feel overly pleased that his ship had been chosen as flagship for the task force that left Byss with Nirauan as destination. He had known beforehand that the Eisenhart would lead the assignment, that her captain would be the Dark Lord's second. Yet he could see the pride in the eyes of his crew, could see their triumph as they gazed at the twenty Imperial ships that had joined them. Five Victory-class Star Destroyers, two Imperial-class Star Destroyers and a score of heavy cruisers and corvettes. An impressive force. And still, he was aware of the tall warlord seated in the bridge's command chair at his back, keeping all too silent. Something was worrying Skywalker. Lorth Needa suspected that it was something he had learned on Byss, and he could also hazard a guess that it was related to the death of Irek Ismaren and the disappearance of Roj Kell. 

Over the past three days the jump had taken them the Dark Lord had increasingly sought solitude, talking to no one, and only because he had known him for so long the captain could identify the distant pain in his icy blue eyes. Now, only hours separated them from Nirauan, and Skywalker had returned to the bridge, perching like a dark shadow on his chair, waiting for something to happen. 

A sudden movement behind him made Needa whirl around in startled surprise and he could see the same emotion on the faces of his crew as they all stared at the Dark Lord. He was standing tall, very still, poised for action. Needa put on a blank expression and moved over to the navigator, drawing Skywalker with him, as if this maneuver had been a planned one. He doubted, though, that they could fool the crew. 

The navigator was shifting uncomfortably in his seat while both the captain and the Dark Lord stood behind him, watching his screens in silence. Then, very gently, Skywalker leaned over the man's shoulder and tapped the center screen delicately. Needa recognised the Deep Core worlds depicted on the new image. Looking up he met Sykwalker's gaze, confused.

"A void," the Dark Lord explained quietly, almost too low to hear, and Needa noticed the navigator's ears perck up to pick up on what was being said. Moving away again the captain followed his superior toward the command chair. Once seated again Skywalker continued. "There have been some disturbances, distant ones, over the past few days. Something is changing."

"Do you have any clue what that might be, sir? How it may affect us?"

"It feels like a landslide, an avalanche, and it is directed at the Unknown Regions. I am not sure who it is supposed to hit out there."

"Can we use it to our advantage somehow?"

"First we need to identify its source and purpose. And utmost priority right now is to meet with the Grand Admiral, gain his insight, and, ultimately, attack. I have an idea for our overall strategy, based on what Kell told Thrawn concerning these Yuuzhan Vong, but I need to hear his opinion first."

The captain nodded his agreement. He was an adept commander when it came down to space combat, he knew, but extensive strategy eluded him. He found it easier to deal with hard facts than speculations on possible responses of the enemy. Of course, even locked in combat the knowledge of one's enemy's abilities was vital, but that was not the same as manipulating him into a favorable response. That was the domain of such warlords as the Dark Lord and the Grand Admiral. They relied on commanders such as Needa to carry out their tactics in battle, and improvise, if necessary. It was something the captain had learned a long time ago, and he was content with his role in this game. 

A tiny smile crept onto his lips. During the last weeks of the war between the Rebel Alliance and the Empire he had not had a chance to command a fleet as grand as this one. And his patrol duty at the critical borders of New Republic space later on had been routine work, nothing as inspirational as this crusade was going to be. In a frightening instant Lorth Needa realized that he loved battle more than any other field of duty the navy could offer. He threw a startled glance at the Dark Lord and saw understanding there. 

"Time to flex those old muscles," Skywalker told him with a smile. "Let's hope this little exercise doesn't get us killed."

On the second patrol round this day Admiral Voss Parck, with the Chiss General Sa'lym'a walking at his side, threw a pensive glance at the couple that had sought refuge on one of the outer perimeter stations of the fortress, barely visible in the gloom of the coming night. He should have guessed that one of the reasons for Naas Deron's unexpected visit on Nirauan was the impending return of his lover. It was disturbing, that the Sith Lord had set such a personal priority at a time like this, and yet, in another sense, it was also understandable. He frowned a bit, when Puket rose from her seat and started toward him, Deron in tow. She was smiling.

"Admiral," she acknowledged him quietly. "General Sa'lym'a."

"Everything all right over here?" he asked cheerfully. The Twi'lek had saved his life back on Byss, and he felt fond of her, if nothing else. She was a friend, a comrade. A confidante.

"No trouble," Naas Deron replied in her place. "The fleet is still set on red alert?"

"Of course."

The Sith frowned deeply. "And the Grand Admiral still refuses to hear me?"

"He does not want you with the scouts, and that is enough for me. It should be enough for you too, Master Deron."

"Of course, Admiral. But I simply do not understand his motives for that order."

Parck gazed at the man pensively. It was clear to him that Deron hated feeling useless, and that he would do anything to participate in the more interesting activities of the fleet, than stay with the ground troops. If an attack came they would engage the enemy only very late, if at all. For a warrior trained by the Sith that was intolerable. But Voss Parck also understood that Thrawn did not want to have the Sith Lord take independent action. Naas Deron and his companion needed to learn to fit into a group, needed to learn to obey orders. Well, Puket was on the right track. He gave the fretting Sith a small smile. 

"Master Deron, you have not trained with the scouts and your presence would only hamper them in performing their tasks."

"Why the fleet?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"He is banning the Sith from the fleet only, apparently. I wonder why?"

Voss Parck's smile widened. "If the Yuuzhan Vong break through the defenses the Grand Admiral is drawing up the ground troops will be the only obstacle in the path of the invaders. You are a warrior, Master Deron. No pilot. That should answer your question."

"There's little difference between either, Admiral. But I see your point."

"Good. Then I suggest this is settled."

"Yes." Naas Deron wrapped an arm affectionately around Puket's shoulders and hugged her close. "Although I doubt they'll get through Thrawn at all."

"Incoming call," Gilead Palleon announced calmly and half-turned toward the Grand Admiral. 

"Identification?" the Chiss asked just as quietly.

The captain glanced at the screen for a few seconds, then smiled. "It's the Eisenhart. They are transmitting a fleet status report. Twenty-five ships in total will be joining us."

"Enough to make up for the Shooting Star and her task force. Excellent. Once they arrive, ask Lord Skywalker to join me on board the Executor."

"Yes, sir."

So, twenty-five ships at his disposal. He strongly doubted that the Dark Lord would object to his plans. They were fool-proof. Twenty-five ships, plus his own task force of twelve, including the Executor. Even if the Yuuzhan Vong sent all of their ships against them they would still stand no chance. Ech'an'dana's scouts had reported sixteen vessels, four of those capital. Yet the Grand Admiral did not like to rely on data that old. He had to assume that the enemy commanders were not complete fools, and that they had brought reinforcements into the conflict. The most convenient staging area for his own forces for a raid into the Lieman Corridor would have been Miecona, where the Yuuzhan Vong had captured Chi'in. It was there Syndic Ech'an'dana had planned to have Thrawn team up with him, yet the Syndic's rash decision to bail his scouts out of trouble had prevented that meeting. Perhaps that had been for the best. 

The choice of a target on the part of the Yuuzhan Vong was clear. Nirauan was at the very edge of Chiss controlled-space, opposite from the Lieman Corridor, which obviously had already been overrun by the enemy. With an advance from both sides the Yuuzhan Vong could crush the capital worlds like Csilla and Almashin easily. To defend those worlds the Chiss would have to send more and more ships and troops away to meet the enemy, so the Yuuzhan Vong could chip at their defenses bit by bit until Csilla and Almashin were left unprotected, a ripe offering. Had the Yuuzhan Vong been content with establishing a single front they would have risked a hard response. This way they left the Chiss no choice but to split their forces. So all he had to do was to discourage them from pursuing that strategy. One crushing defeat here at Nirauan, followed by a sweep along the edges of Chiss space right up to the defensive line a few hundred clicks between Almashin and Kynda'bey. And then the real game could begin. 

"Captain Palleon."

"Yes, sir?" the captain asked calmly, and Thrawn noticed Commander Sujar hovering at his shoulder. 

"Summon Naas Deron and Puket to the bridge once the meeting has ended. I have a task for them."

An hour later the Grand Admiral stalked into the bridge's conference room, arms crossed behind his back, to find the Dark Lord already waiting for him. Skywalker was studying the latest reports filed by the scouts out on patrol and he looked up from his reading with a smile when the Chiss entered. Yet he didn't bother to rise from his seat. They were alone, so Thrawn did not mention this breach of protocol. He knew, just as Skywalker did, that there were more important matters than protocol right now. Taking his seat he waited for Skywalker to finish reading. Finally the tall human put the datapad aside and gave his counterpart a long, hard look. 

"A fine mess."

"Not too bad," Thrawn answered softly.

The Dark Lord frowned. "We shall see. The mine screen you have established should hold off any all too nosy star fighters, but they will also hamper our own ships' maneuverability. I therefore conclude you are planning on crushing them against the planet."

"That is one aspect of the strategy, yes."

"There are only four ships guarding the planet, plus the Executor. They will suspect a trap the moment they arrive. Perhaps even beforehand, if their scouts get close enough. And they will get close enough, or else you would lose the element of surprise, if they would not check back in."

"Exactly. They will be forced to secure the area first, before they can attack the planet. According to my information the goal they pursue is conquest, so a forward base would make sense. Nirauan is a fitting place for that, which was why we chose it in the first place too."

"If Chi'in has revealed too much they might also try to capture you."

"What for? I am worth more to them dead," the Chiss replied drily. 

"Also true," Skywalker conceded. "So, what is the plan?"

"Ech'an'dana's task force undoubtedly has reached the Lieman Corridor by now. The presence of his forces in that area will lead the enemy to the conclusion that we are planning a concentrated attack on their troops stationed there."

Skywalker gave a pensive nod. "They will expect the battle group to be joined by reinforcements. We could select several jump points that head toward that section of space, to give the impression that the majority of our fleet stationed here is indeed leaving. They will think the remaining forces easy prey. That's a standard tactic," he added thoughtfully. "Not your style at all, Grand Admiral."

"You know me. They don't. Lord Kell told me that the Yuuzhan Vong believe fervently in battle. That includes the honor of battle. Assuming we think like them we would rely on Chi'in to rather die than reveal our defenses. Besides, Chi'in did not know we were getting reinforcements. They won't know about your ships, and my scouts are thorough. No Yuuzhan Vong probe will get past them without their alerting us first. Yet I suggest quick action. They will expect us to anticipate an attack out of the Unknown Regions."

"The question is, will they also expect us to anticipate their move and post our strongest defenses toward the Core?"

"That is the catch." Pursing his lips thoughtfully Thrawn shook his head. "Yet I do not believe they will push so far. They cannot risk having an enemy at their backs as they continue coreward. No, defenses in that sector would only waste resources."

"I don't like that," Skywalker told him with a dark look. "Unfortunately it is reasonable. It's a long way from the Lieman Corridor. Supplies are hard to smuggle through enemy territory too." He heaved a tiny sigh. "All right. On your responsibility." 

It was a joke, of course. If the enemy pushed toward the Core against all expectations the Dark Lord would have no choice but to abandon the Chiss and stop the invaders before they could go too far. Nirauan was the place, and they both knew it. 

Walking through the bleak corridors of the Executor toward the hangar bay, Anakin felt strangely at home. Even though he had never commanded her in combat himself she had been built to be his flagship. Yet he knew that the ship was in excellent hands, now that she had been won back from Irek Ismaren. He felt a pang of guilt when he thought of the boy, his violent death. It seemed such a useless waste of life, and yet, now that he had heard all the details of Irek's madness he doubted that any effort at redeeming him could have been successful. Still, he pitied the child for all of his hardships, his loneliness. He could understand what he had gone through, could understand it all too well. The sharp teeth of betrayal and desertion had eaten away at his heart too, before he had fallen into Palpatine's clutches. 

Shaking off those dark memories he forced himself to concentrate on the task ahead. With the forces they had assembled here, pushing the Yuuzhan Vong back should be manageable. But this was a foe they had never really engaged before. True, Voss Parck and Gilead Palleon had managed to thwart the first attack on the planet with surprisingly small losses, but that only meant that the Yuuzhan Vong would now come in at greater numbers. If Roj Kell was to believed the one advantage that could prove crucial was the yammosk, a creature that could coordinate the alien troops by will alone. Faster than a Chiss or human mind, faster than any comm relay. Which meant that their troops would be able to react earlier and more efficient than his own or Thrawn's. Destroying the yammosk was therefore first priority. 

"Sir!" a young ensign hurried up toward him from the direction of his shuttle as he rounded the corner and entered the hangar bay. "Sir, Black Squadron reports enemy scout activity!"

"How far away?"

Instead of answering the man handed him a datapad. Looking at the numbers, Anakin cursed whole-heartedly. They were too early! Damn! Long legs propelling him onward he sprinted toward his ship, not bothering to wait for the ensign. "Get to the Eisenhart as fast as this clutch can go!" he yelled at the startled pilot. "And open a conference live feed to the Eisenhart's bridge and to the Executor!"

The shuttle's comm officer set to work instantly. "You're online, sir."

"Good. Grand Admiral, you have received the bad news?"

"Affirmative," Thrawn's smooth voice conceded calmly. "Scout activity in sector eighteen."

"Captain Needa, Black Squadron is to intercept and destroy," Anakin told the commander of his flagship. 

"As ordered, sir," came the prompt reply.

The shuttle lifted off the deck and sailed toward the hangar opening serenly, just moments before a truly giant ship dropped ot of hyperspace almost on top of them. "Evasive!" Anakin exclaimed out of reflex, and that was for the best, since it shook the startled pilot and co-pilot out of their shocked paralysis. There was a curious lurch and then, with stomach-churning abruptness, the shuttle plunged dirtside. 

"Sir, we've lost our shields!" the co-pilot reported, aghast. 

"What? Impossible!"

Again Thrawn's voice came over the live feed. "Shields down to 70 percent. Shield damage in sector seven. Retreat and close off the area. Hull breach imminent."

And indeed, as the shuttle spun around to halt the breakneck fall Anakin could see the giant alien ship pour what looked like plasma into the Executor's defenseless left flank. He had no idea what had caused the shields to go, but this close the damage the enemy ship was inflicting on the Super Star Destroyer looked to become devastating, even if the shields had been fully functional. Over the comm live feed he could hear the distant blare of the ship alarm aboard the Executor, announcing a hull breach, and voices jabbering in confusion. Suddenly there was silence. Watching in horror Anakin saw the Executor's bridge tower collapse under the onslaught of enemy fire. Then a direct hit knocked his own ship off course, and sent it spinning toward Nirauan, out of control, and directly into the mine field surrounding the planet. 

Lorth Needa had a hard time bringing his rapidly beating heart back under control. A serene coldness settled over his mind, ignoring the Executor's plight, ignoring the chaos of voices that filled the bridge speakers on several channels. 

"Sir! We have lost Lord Skywalker's shuttle!" Commander Teer Shikay announced, startled. There was not much that could surprise that seasoned officer, but the loss of their Supreme Commander seemed to get close. Well, they needed to avoid panic at all cost. 

"Commander Shikay, launch all fighters. Relay the order to the rest of the fleet. Contact the base to have Admiral Parck surrender fleet command to me instantly."

"Launch!" the commander bellowed into his headphones. "Sir, I cannot raise the base!"

"Direct feed to every friendly on this field."

"Done!" There was a little less of shrill panic in Shikay's voice now. Good.

"This is Captain Lorth Needa, currently in command of the flagship Eisenhart of the New Repblic Imperial Allied Forces. I am taking over command of this fleet. Commanders, check in, please." The answers came in rapid succession. They all knew that there was no time to waste. Finally there was silence. 

"Thank you," the captain breathed. "Now, we've been through this a hundred times. You all know your codes. I expect you to follow my orders and only mine. Clear? Good. Blue Group, Red Group and Green Group, I want you to punch a hole through that fighter screen coming at us. Now. Black Group, join with Gold and Lead Group." He dropped into the command chair the Dark Lord had occupied only hours ago, feeling himself age by decades. "Commander Shikay, status report, please."

"The Executor looks pretty bad – "

"We can all see that," Needa interrupted his second gently. "I meant the enemy's status."

Flustered, Teer Shikay nodded vigorously. "Of course. Four capital ships, all launching fighters. I estimate a thousand. Fifteen smaller cruisers, all seemingly deployed to attack singular ships."

"Good. Admiral Hxenti, General Litteera, check in." The officers commanding Gold and Black Group bellowed an affirmative. "I want the three groups to form a loose spearhead, aimed at that ship that's pummeling the Executor. Make that two ships," he added with a suppressed groan. "Blue, Red, Green command, what's your status?"

"We are experiencing heavy losses. Their fighters are fast, and they absorb our shots."

"All right. Give me a visual." Studying the slaughter dispassionately Needa felt responsibilty almost overwhelm him. He was now the only one standing between escape and certain doom for thousands of troops. It was incredible. Forcing himself to breathe evenly he concentrated again. "Blue, Green and Red, I suggest you keep your capital ships between those fighters and the main battle field. Your squadrons are to shepherd them into tighter knots and concentrate the fire into that greater mass. Launch assault shuttles to assist them. And keep your own guns ready."

"Captain Needa, this is Captain Hellermannn, in charge of the Chimarea. What orders do you have for us?"

"Wait please, I need to call up your position." Hellermannn was in command of the sentinel ships surrounding Nirauan. Meaning he could risk microjumps where Needa's ships could not. Whistling through his teeth the captain almost smiled when he saw two of the capital enemy ships move to break the spearhead his own task force had formed. The giant warships were moving into the open space left between the two loose rows of the most powerful cruisers and Star Destroyers Needa had at his command. Well, almost all the powerful ones. "Captain Hellermannn, I am transmitting your orders right now. You have two minutes."

The seconds ticked by while the battle raged on outside. The Executor was firing at the two ships flanking her, but the damage spread out toward the bow of the Super Star Destroyer, and the return fire died down ever so slowly the more the damage advanced. Watching the ship's left flank being ripped open, Needa felt sorrow for the thousands of people dying over there. Suddenly noticing the true intent of the enemy he jumped to his feet. They were aiming at putting the largest ship out of the fight, of course, but additionally, the planet's gravity would drag the Super Star Destroyer toward Nirauan and open a convenient breach in the mine field surrounding the planet, clearing the way for a ground attack. He did not doubt that the forces under Admiral Parck's command were aware of what was going on up here, but he did not know whether Parck would know how to respond. 

Then an alarm pinged, signalling the end of the two minute break he had given Hellermannn to bring his ships into position. Just in that moment, as he had hoped would happen, the two capital enemy ships opened fire at the backs of his own formation. "Black and Gold, close wings at attack speed!" he yelled and then the score of Star Destroyers and cruisers shot forward, closing around the Executor and the enemy ships that were still pouring plasma at her burning hull. "Open fire!"

And that order did not only go to his ships, but also to Hellermannn's command, that had appeared along with Yellow Group at the backs of the two capital ships that had snuck up on Needa's task force and suddenly found their quarry gone. Under the combined effort of the massive Imperial and New Republic ships they made some progress in pummelling the giant warships and Teer Shikay let out a bellow of joy and relief when the one directly in front of the Eisenhart broke apart under the onslaught. Hellermannn reported equal success. But that still left two ships that remained untouched by the brunt of the backlash. They had found easier prey in Blue, Green and Red Group. The second warship that had also been receiving return fire from the Executor herself, yielded to Needa's forces. They could make out escape pods launching from the bow of the Super Star Destroyer now, and the captain immediately sent shuttles out to retrieve them. The tide had turned only briefly in their favor, since the enemy was far too numerous and quick to hold back for long. They had to get out, and fast. Or else Nirauan would become a total loss. 

Alarms were blaring at full volume and cut off with startling abruptness as the bridge tower collapsed and perished along with the ship's main comm center. Of course there was no true silence, since the impacts of enemy fire were drowning out even the distant screams of dying crew members, but there was an eerie absence of life itself. This was chaos, death, not the orderly battle Gilead Palleon had expected. He had to almost run to keep up with the Grand Admiral's fast strides, and he barely dared look at the Chiss' hard face. Thrawn's glowing eyes seemed unreal in the emergency lights of the ship that matched the blood-red of those cold pits into icy concentration. He seemed the calm center of the storm, in control of himself, exuding calm and infecting the troopers and crewers they met on their way to the bow.

Then the Grand Admiral's arm whipped around suddenly to take hold of an elderly technician hurrying by, toward the direction they had come from. "Where do you think you are going?" he asked sharply, and the man broke into gibbering confusion.

"Damage report from the bridge... " he answered, uncertain.

"The bridge is gone. Get yourself off the ship. Captain," letting go of the technician Thrawn assumed his fast pace once more. "Ship-wide alert. I want everyone to man the escape pods, except for the gunners." 

"Yes, sir," Palleon replied briskly and moved to go ahead. But then a female Chiss officer arrived at a dead run and blocked their way. 

She gave the Grand Admiral a sharp bow. "Message from Commander Sujar, sir. He says the forward batteries are under control and functional. He also says for you to get the hell out of here," she added with an almost outraged look in her glowing eyes.

"Where is he?" 

"He has set up his headquarters in the bow. I'll lead you."

A particularly hard hit rattled the giant ship's superstructure in an iron fist. "Main drive is gone," Palleon commented dispassionately. "She'll drift toward Nirauan and crash, most likely."

"An estimate on the trajectory?" Thrawn asked quietly as they gathered more speed, jogging after the Chiss officer. 

"She'll miss the base."

"And contaminate the area nevertheless. Perhaps that is not even all that bad."

Palleon found his mouth hanging open. "Sir?"

"Radioactive contamination. I don't assume these Yuuzhan Vong can deal with that."

"But the base..."

"Admiral Parck will evacuate in time." The Grand Admiral turned his head ever so slightly to give his second an amused look. "Voss Parck can handle a ground assault. Contrary to my troops, he knows the benefits of fighting dirty."

"Imperial standard requirement for commanding officers," Palleon returned, picking up on Thrawn's black humor. 

A rare smile appeared on the admiral's face, but was cut off when they reached the bow. Commander Sujar, his expression pensive, was the center of attention, chasing his officers this way and that, a headcomm adorning his graying hair. Just the same as he had taken over back when Irek Ismaren had almost destroyed the ship he had now anticipated the Grand Admiral and initiated the counter-attack before Thrawn had had time to issue the order himself. Palleon smiled.

"Grand Admiral on deck!" Lieutenant Narket, standing by Sujar's side, bellowed, and everyone stopped in their tracks to give Thrawn a tight salute. 

"Proceed," the Chiss told them quietly, and the bustle rose up again. Joining Sujar and Narket the Captain and the Grand Admiral looked around in wonder. 

"We are using the remaining radar systems to coordinate our fire, but it is mostly shooting blindly, I fear," the commander explained calmly. "Lieutenant Narket is trying to establish a line to the Eisenhart to have them direct us. So far it isn't working. Sergeant Alok and his teams are taking out the assault shuttles with some personnel and General Diggil is with the techs to have a look at the damage. And what are you still doing here?"

"The Executor is doomed, Commander. I ordered a ship-wide evacuation," Thrawn replied icily. "So I should rather ask what _you_ are still doing here?"

"Giving you some breathing space," Sujar answered, with weariness heavy in his tone. "Seriously, sir, we need you to survive. You and the captain. Everyone who's here has volunteered. It'll be a real boost to their morale to know that those bastards didn't get you."

For a long time the Grand Admiral remained silent. His jaw muscles were bunched tightly together and his glowing eyes narrowed in anger. But in the end he gave Sujar a sharp nod. 

"This is a futile effort. My order stands. You and your men will evacuate."

"With all due respect, sir, I refuse that order."

"Lieutenant Narket. You will lead your people to the closest escape pods. Now," Thrawn continued, his gaze still locked on Sujar. 

"No, sir," the younger officer replied, his face flushing red as he realized that he was defying his superior, and what was more, that he was defying Grand Admiral Thrawn himself. But he also seemed determined.

"Very well," the Grand Admiral breathed. "Both of you are stripped of rank and command. I cannot tolerate mutiny on my ship, and it still _is_ my ship, until it ceases to be. Is that clear?"

Both officers were beaming at him, but Palleon could see the resignation in their eyes. They had accepted their destiny and would endure any humiliation if only it got them what they had decided would be their fate. By reducing them to civilians Thrawn had just freed them of their duties and obligations toward a superior officer. Hence the smiles.

"Clear," Sujar said with a nod. "And now get out of here." 

Throwing a last look at the gunners, Thrawn gave them a text-book salute. "We will not forget your sacrifice," he told them sincerely, and whirled around to leave. 

As he followed in his wake Palleon could see pride and triumph on every face they left behind. He tried to memorize each single one, but the one thing he regretted too was that he had noticed Sujar's competence and leadership qualities only so late. He would have made a fine admiral. 

Thrawn was already ahead of him, and was soon swallowed by the stream of personnel drifting toward the escape pods of the command deck. The captain had no fear of losing the admiral in the crowd, though. All he had to do was to follow the cheers.

Watching the Executor's death throes through his macrobinoculars, Admiral Parck felt his heart ache with grief. The Super Star Destroyer was plunging toward the planet's surface unchecked in a dazzling display of tiny explosions as it hit space mine after space mine. Then the tip of the bow touched the planet's atmosphere and vanished in a blinding flash of light. She would not burn completely, though, he knew. Most of her dead bulk would crash into the planet in a few hours time. Lowering the binoculars Parck turned toward General Sa'lym'a and Naas Deron. The Sith Lord's face was drawn tightly into a feral snarl, while the Chiss remained impassive. A distant boom rolled over the fortress, startling them. 

"Something hit," Puket, who was standing right behind the Admiral, commented quietly. 

"None of ours," Sa'lym'a suggested. "The Executor won't hit until morning."

"No, but it is still one of _ours_," Deron added, a smile lighting up his face. "Come, we need to pick them up!" he told his companion and they both turned away from the ground troop commanders.

Uncomprehending, the admiral watched the two Sith warriors leave. He nodded at his

second tiredly and handed the macrobinoculars to a waiting aide. "All right. Let's give them a hard one down here."

Directing the shuttle through the mine field had been a hairy affair, as hairy as shielding the armored hull during the passage through the planet's atmosphere. But he had managed, and landing the shuttle now was no problem. There was, after all, only one way to go. Down. 

The ship settled on the ground with a boom, flattening a few trees as it crashed into the surface, barely slowed by Anakin's efforts. Once it had come to rest he scrambled over the seats and equipment that had been torn from their places. Checking on the crew briefly he confirmed their deaths dispassionately. Three more to add to today's long list of casualties. 

The exit hatch was jammed tight, so he decided to put his lightsaber to some use. The glowing red blade sheared through hull and armor magnificently and finally he dropped down onto the mossy underground, scanning his surroundings warily. By his estimate he was miles away from the fortress and it was almost completely dark. No sense in wasting his strength. They would come pick him up, he knew. Naas Deron was a shining beacon of obsidian light in his mind, and the Sith Lord and former student of Chi'in seemed confident and focused. He could find the Dark Lord easily. 

With a sigh Anakin dropped down on his haunches, cleansing his mind of any thought. Just for a moment he wanted to forget the devastating defeat he and the Grand Admiral had suffered here, today. They had been surprised ...

No. No more. Just peace, for now. Closing his eyes he saw the Executor's bridge tower explode again. With a gasp he reopened his eyes once more – and stared. A tall figure loomed over him, indistinct in the shadows of Nirauan's night, but Anakin knew at first glance who had come to taunt him.

"You are here," he stated icily. "A foolish move, I should say." 

Roj Kell moved a little bit closer. His white hair seemed grimy and gray with dirt, and in places it appeared to be clogged with dried blood. He looked a mess, and he was walking as if in a trance. Yet the light in his pale eyes was as strong as ever. 

"A foolish move, I agree," he replied softly and Anakin shuddered at the sound of that enchanting voice. So many layers to his tone, so many inflections. 

"I heard what happened on Byss," the Dark Lord continued hoarsely. "You killed your son."

Taking a deep breath the old man leaned forward, his hands propped against his thighs to hold himself upright. He closed his eyes briefly, as if to gather strength, then opened them again to gaze straight at the Dark Lord. "Killing Irek was the least of what I have done over the past few weeks. Perhaps, in time, you will find out about the rest. I for one pray you never will." 

"More surprises?" the Dark Lord asked bitterly. 

"So afraid," Kell whispered softly. "So paralysed with uncertainty. Perhaps I have overestimated you."

Moving lightning quick, Anakin caught the old man's throat in a hard grip. "Not another word from you!" he hissed. "You are responsible for this disaster! You betrayed us!"

"There is no betrayal without loyalty, Skywalker. And my loyalty surely never was to the New Republic. Or the Chiss."

Unfortunately that was all too true. Anakin gritted his teeth. "Why did you come?" 

"I came for you."

Anakin released the other with a disgusted grunt. "Your games are getting boring."

"Games," the ancient Sith hissed and suddenly his bony fingers dug into the Dark Lord's shoulders. "You believe this is a game to me?" 

He leaned very close, so close that Anakin could smell his warm breath, that carried the distinct aroma of blood and death. He was regarding the Dark Lord intently, and Anakin turned his head away, not wanting to meet those disturbing eyes. Kell gave a low chuckle and relaxed his grip before he dropped down next to Anakin in an easy crouch. 

"What do you want?" he asked harshly and egded away a bit.

"Your son is alive."

"What?" Staring at the ancient Sith in surprise Anakin immediately scolded himself for letting the old man put him off guard with his deliberately sparse comments. "Have you seen him?"

"Yes." Roj Kell leaned his head back to look up into the sky, to watch the battle die down gradually. "Your fleet is retreating, it would seem."

"Yes. So?"

"They will lauch ground troops, wear down your defenses over time, capture you, perhaps. Take you as slaves."

"What do you care?"

"No one should be forced to submit to someone else's rule. But neither should one be punished for one's beliefs."

The Dark Lord frowned. "You told Thrawn that they are heretics. Then you corrected yourself again and named them fools," Anakin said quietly. "Would you be willing to be a bit more precise?"

"I call them Ju Vong, little slaves," Kell whispered, amused. "They are not like you and me. They lead miserable little lives and never realize what they are missing."

"What are they missing?"

"Freedom. What else? It is a caste society, based on a weird notion of life." 

"And some fervent belief."

"Some fervent belief, yes." The ancient Sith's tone turned pensive. "I have seen their kind before. Pawns in the hands of madmen who sought to pursue their own dreams of glory." Turning his eyes toward Anakin he gave the Dark Lord a sly wink and a smile. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"You are talking about the Massassi, am I right?"

"In a sense. Yes."

"How can we defeat them?"

Roj Kell smiled, and their eyes met across the millennia that separated them. For a moment the Dark Lord could see someone else in the ancient Sith's features, someone who had no concept of fear, of anger, of death to obscure his vision. This someone could see with breathtaking clarity, and had long given up on trying to change anything. A hand, sinewy and incredibly strong, locked around the back of his neck. For a tiny moment Anakin felt his heart stop in dread. This was not something he could fight. It was too close, too personal... Looking into Kell's pale eyes he could see his own future, and more. 

"Expose their gods for what they are," the old Sith Lord said softly. "Show them that they are mere slaves of their own making." He gave a soft laugh. "They believe the highest honor is to die in battle, in service of their gods. And they pretend to worship life when they dare to shape living beings to become their weapons, their everything. Their leaders realize how hollow their belief is, but it is convenient. Very convenient. Once you take that certainty from them you must fill their empty hearts again. You can do it, Skywalker."

"I am not so sure," Anakin whispered. 

He could sense the urgency in the other's words, the hope and longing. It felt wrong, somehow, to hear them out of his old nemesis' mouth, but he knew them to be true.

Reinforcing his grip on his neck Kell drew him closer and the Dark Lord tensed in dread anticipation. 

"I _am_ certain," Kell insisted. "I have tested your strength, your heart, your mind. You are the one. You have been chosen a long time ago. And I entrust this secret to you, and you alone. Sometimes a sacrifice is greater than one can imagine, sometimes more painful. It helps to put the pain away. But one day it will come back and destroy you. The key is truth, Anakin. Only that."

When he drew away again the Dark Lord clasped his hand in a hard grip, holding him tightly. "Stay with us," he pleaded hoarsely. "We could use your knowledge."

Roj Kell smiled at him, before he gently freed his hand. "You know all you must, Anakin. The rest of the answers you will have to find on your own. Just like I did." A dreamy look appeared in his pale eyes. "Perhaps it will help you understand when you look back on your past. I know it helped me to find the truth at last."

Scrambling to his feet hurriedly, Anakin stood facing the ancient Sith, suddenly feeling uncertain. Their eyes met in silence, and he could see peace in the old man's gaze. It put him at ease again, and gradually his confidence returned. He realized that they would not meet again, yet he did not feel relief or triumph at that revelation. All he felt was calm. He gave the ancient Sith a tiny bow, feeling that it was the appropriate gesture to say farewell. 

Returning his gesture, Roj Kell brought his left hand up to touch his own chest just above his heart. For a moment his dark-clad figure was surrounded by an aura of golden light, a soft sheen that glimmered in the night. It threw shadows across his face, strange shadows, that made him look much different, savage, even. Gradually the light focused, until it was a fist-sized glowing sphere that hovered above Kell's left hand. He gazed down at it with wonder, reverent. Anakin was spellbound by the display. His eyes were locked on the golden sphere, watching the light it contained twist and eddy through the confined space, as if searching for some way to escape. The ancient Sith's enchanting voice insinuated itself in his own thoughts, a reflection of what he could see in that light, just as glorious and beautiful.

"To be Cor'dan is to be both of the light and the darkness. It means giving birth as well as being the end of all life. To be Cor'dan is to be the essence of being, the eye of the storm. It also means remaining true to one's ideals." Roj Kell smiled. "A rule you should find easy to follow, Lord Vader." 

Anakin felt himself stiffen at being addressed by his old title. "I will do my best."

"That's all I ask." Kell gently guided the sphere towards the Dark Lord, a pristine offering. The gesture itself was so full of meaning that Anakin felt his mouth run dry. "The light of the Force," the ancient Sith continued. "A first taste of the power that will command you once I am gone." He arched his eyebrows in a silent warning. "Once you accept it, there is no way back. I leave the choice to you."

Wetting his lips nervously, Anakin met the old man's eyes again. "Were you given a choice?"

"I was raised to become Cor'dan. There never was any doubt in my mind once the time had come. And I have not regretted that decision since. It is a heavy burden, and it will not grant you peace. But it is worth everything." Kell threw him one of his mocking smiles and tossed his head back with a laugh, that made him appear much younger, almost boyish. "In fact, Skywalker, it _is_ everything."

Anakin felt his mind race. _You have been chosen a long time ago_. His thoughts congealed into a mass of disbelieving confusion. He remembered the prophecy, remembered Kell's off-hand interpretation of those ancient words. That the secret was inner balance. Once that was accomplished, true balance could be achieved on any other level. A new era. A new beginning. And it had begun three thousand years ago, with the birth of this troublesome magician, who had spent all of his life in preparation for this very night. Anakin wondered if Kell had realized at some point throughout the millennia, why he had been granted the gift of what came close to immortality. Well, he thought wrily, of course he had. 

When the ancient Sith stepped closer, so close that they were almost touching, Anakin closed his eyes in timid reverence. Kell spoke softly, almost a whisper, but his tone was full of heated menace. "All that I know I cede to you to use as you see fit. Do not disappoint me. I shall be very displeased if you should dare sully my legacy with foolish games and useless powerplays."

Anakin broke into helpless chuckles. "Never worry about that," he returned.

"Your decision?" 

The gentle look in those pale eyes, the chiming echoes racing the deep hum of distant shadows that accompanied that magical voice, broke the Dark Lord out of his uncertainty. Nodding slowly, he raised his hands toward the glowing sphere that hovered above Kell's left shoulder tentatively. When his fingertips touched the light he was surprised to find it warm and very soft, delicate, like a newborn. Meeting Kell's gaze he was taken aback for a moment, to see the golden glow reflected in the other's eyes, but then, gradually, it vanished again, at the same rate that the sphere took to disappear into the Dark Lord's skin, merging with his very being. It was an avalanche of emotion, of pictures and sounds, of smells and different tastes. It was overwhelming. 

The aftermath of the bonding left him panting on his knees. When he had gathered his strength once more, his body shaking all over and tears streaming down his face from the experience, he looked up to find Roj Kell gone. And with a clarity that was frightening, he knew what was going to happen, and what he was going to do. Rising to his feet unsteadily, he smiled grimly into the night. So he had taken the last step, had forfeited all rules for this single one. Truth. 

"Beware the Sith," he told the world in general, and he laughed out loud, when he realized the magnitude of it all. "Beware indeed."

"All on board!" Teer Shikay announced as he turned toward Lorth Needa. 

The captain nodded in acknowledgement. "Full retreat. Let's get out of here."

The Eisenhart had fought her way through the battle field valiantly, leading the remaining ships on a direct trajectory heading for Miecona. The Yuuzhan Vong fleet was following in hot pursuit, but Needa had ordered his troops to put first priority on escpae. That way there would be some ships left to strike back at all. When the Star Destroyer accelerated to lightspeed he felt as if he left a part of himself behind. But they'd had no choice. The enemy had slaughtered them badly, and he could be lucky if he would arrive at Miecona with a third of his fleet intact. He feared he would be left with even less. It was infuriating that he had not been able to counter the Yuuzhan Vong's coordinated attack more effectively, but then, he had been thoroughly surprised by their defenses. Whatever it was that had stripped the fighters of their shields and had even managed to pull down the Executor, he vowed to find out how to get around it the next time they engaged the enemy. 

Space around them turned into the bright starlines of hyperspace and Needa rose from his seat to retire from the bridge. Teer Shikay was watching him as warily as the rest of his bridge crew, but neither said a word. They knew that his level-headedness had saved them from being utterly destroyed, but they were also wondering whether he was adept enough to continue the fight. Yet that did not concern him right now. He needed some time to be alone, some time to digest what had happened. And even if that only meant twenty minutes of peace. As it turned out he would not get to enjoy that badly craved solitude. 

On his way down the main corridor that led away from the bridge he was stopped by the sound of approaching feet, boot-soles hammering over the polished deck unstoppably. He felt his mind freeze into nothingness when two men came into view, trailing an entire contingent of troopers and technicians. 

"Grand Admiral!" he exclaimed, joy flooding his entire being. "Welcome on board!" He had to hurry to join with the admiral's entourage as they filed past him, and he did not bother to wipe the silly grin from his face that had appeared there the moment he had realized that the Force meant well for him and would spare him the responsibility of waging a war on his own.

"Excellent work out there, Admiral Needa," Thrawn told him, but did not turn his head to look at him. 

The captain-promoted-admiral felt his jaw drop, and his step faltered. But a smiling Gilead Palleon hooked an arm around his shoulders and dragged him along, back onto the bridge, where a ragged cheer went up for the three battered commanders. 

Standing amidst the beaming bridge crew of the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart Grand Admiral Thrawn stood silently, his arms crossed behind his back, his glowing eyes filled with a quiet power that infected them all. A grim smile spread on his features when the cries of joy and pride began to die down once more. 

"We may have lost this battle," he told them quietly, "but thanks to Admiral Needa here, we can fight another day. In fact, we will return to Nirauan in exactly six standard hours." That shut even the most persistent of the cheering crowd up effectively. There were long faces all around. Fear and confusion spread out over the bridge, and even Lorth Needa could feel it nag at his heart. But the Grand Admiral continued, smiling. "We will catch the enemy unawares, ladies and gentlemen," he explained, his smooth voice sounding somehow eerie against the background of what they all had just been through. But Needa could see the sense in this maneuver. The Yuuzhan Vong fleet thought them defeated. They would indeed be surprised. 

"May the stars witness their utter destruction," he whispered, loud enough for all to hear. Again the cheers rose up, enfolding the captain whole. He met the Grand Admiral's gaze with a smile of his own. Amidst the joyful celebration he realized that they had indeed only begun this war. 

And so they descended upon the remaining ships of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet with a vengeance, a strafing run that tore through the alien troop carriers descending toward Nirauan's surface viciously. Standing next to the Grand Admiral's command chair on the left side, with Gilead Palleon flanking it to the right, Lorth Needa watched the enemy scramble in panic. 

"That should give us enough material to start with," Thrawn told them softly as they completed the run. He turned his head toward the sensor officer and ordered: "Cease recording now, Lieutenant."

The man hesitated only for the fraction of a second, his eyes fixed not on his readouts, but instead on the forward viewport. Following his gaze Needa again felt his heart ache. The Executor had begun her long fall down toward the planet's surface, a dagger plunging straight toward the heart of their defenses. And just like everyone else present on the bridge he wondered whether their comrades would hold out long enough.

"This is not over," the Grand Admiral said quietly, his cool, smooth voice filling the silent bridge easily. "Not by a long shot."

TBC


	26. Chapter 25 - Battlefields

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Chapter 25 – Battlefields

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Voss Parck heaved a sigh of relief when Puket and Deron returned with the Dark Lord. The man himself wore a grim expression on his scarred face as he stalked toward both Parck and Sa'lym'a. Flanking him, both the Twi'lek and the Sith Lord seemed decidedly deadly, falling easily into the same predatory gait Skywalker had adopted. The trio stopped with military precision in front of the two commanders, and again the admiral almost shook his head in quiet wonder at the oddity of their situation. Here they were, a hundred miles north of the fortress, with a mountain range shielding them from what would become ground zero pretty soon. The Executor's wreckage loomed over the planet so closely now that her bulk almost eclipsed the rising morning sun. They had an hour at the most before the giant Super Star Destroyer's impact on the planet's surface. The destruction would be devastating, groundquakes, poisonous contamination and what not. 

"She will perform that last service for us," the Dark Lord explained, as if he had read the admiral's mind.

Voss Parck nodded. "But leading the enemy onto that deadly ground is a suicide mission," he pointed out wearily. 

"Perhaps I have a solution for that. You still have clawcraft down here, don't you?"

"Of course. There was no sense in launching them with the mine screen still intact."

Skywalker nodded gravely. "They will begin landing troops soon, undoubtedly covered by their starfighters. I will need three clawcraft with especially strong shielding. Perhaps you can have the techs modify them with scoutcraft shielding?"

Astounded at the Dark Lord's knowledge of Chiss technology, Voss Parck still was uncertain. "We have established a provisiory base here, of course, and chances are that they will attack the fortress first. If they find it at all."

"They will find it, do not worry about that. Deron, Puket, you two are with me."

"Bait?" Naas Deron asked coolly, his brows arched in a mock smile. 

"Of couse. Let's see how strong their shields are."

Thrawn let the commanders' reports wash over him dispassionately. The information they had prepared for him was irrelevant to his own choices. All that had been of any real interest had been the analysis of the enemy's defenses and weaponry. And those themselves were a mystery. The scientists and technicians aboard the Eisenhart had concluded, that the ships generated gravitational anomalies that served both as propulsion and defense. They also seemed to produce plasma of some sort, to throw at passing enemy fighters or latch onto larger cruisers. That plasma would then eat through the shields and hull quite easily. Also, the techs told him, the anomalies sucked the shielding away from smaller craft and weakened that of larger ones, a fact that had doomed the Executor and a great many of their smaller craft. Now both technicians and scientists urged him to capture one of the enemy fighters for more detailed examination. He had almost smiled at their sincere suggestion, finding it overly amusing that they were so caught up in this new design that they did not seem to see at all that the enemy functioned like any other enemy would. 

There were no differences in their attack or defense patterns, other than their being extremely well organized, and their defenses were not anything they could not overcome. Of course, any shot aimed at a Yuuzhan Vong ship might be sucked up by the gravitational anomalies, an effective shielding, apparently, but the enemy would not be able to launch any return fire of his own if the gravitational anomalies that might hamper the plasma were active when the weapon was fired. A weak point to exploit. Additionally, he assumed that extensive cross-fire, on the basis of such a tactic as Admiral Needa had advised his fighters to adopt in the previous battle, would effectively weaken the enemy's defenses. They would have to perfect this technique, of course, and he had the techs work on simulations for the pilots already. Needa himself was assisting them. 

But, of course, the knack in defense was to surprise the enemy. Not with traditional tactics, not with prolonged space battles that would cost his limited resources too much. No, not at all. 

"Thank you, Captain," he told the Chimaera's commander quietly and Hellermann shut up instantly. Steepling his hands in front of his chest, the Grand Admiral favored each member of the war council assembled in the Eisenhart's bridge conference room with a stern glance. "The casualties," he continued smoothly, "are certainly unlike anything we have ever seen before. And nothing we will ever see again," he added with a smile. "First priority is to contact Csilla and Almashin and to gain an update on Ech'an'dana's progress, as well as on what ships and resources remain throughout our realm."

"What about the troops back on Nirauan?" someone asked quietly.

Thrawn gave the speaker, General Litteera, a thin smile. "I am fairly certain that Lord Skywalker will slaughter the enemy utterly."

"We do not even know if he is alive!" Commander Teer Shikay protested aloud. 

"You should have more faith in the Dark Lord. Besides, even if he were dead, Admiral Parck and General Sa'lym'a are hardly novices to ground battle. No, gentlemen, we should not concern ourselves with Nirauan's fate at all."

"There are still some enemy ships left there," Admiral Hxenti reminded them.

"They won't remain there much longer." Lorth Needa had remained quiet throughout the reports, assessing and evaluating everything in his usual, deliberate manner. Still, when he spoke, every commander turned to face him expectantly. Only a year or so ago the former captain would have felt uncomfortable to be the focus of the attention of so many accomplished commanders. But now he had proven not only to himself that he was a worthy disciple of the Dark Lord of the Sith. The man's shrewdness in the battle of Nirauan had even surprised Thrawn. 

"Please proceed," the Grand Admiral told the gray-eyed commander encouragingly.

"After our strafing run last night one of their large cruisers remains. Hundreds of enemy fighters have also survived, along with at least ten smaller cruisers. They will defend against a renewed attack, expecting us to deploy guerillia tactics. I agree with the Grand Admiral concerning our overall strategy. If we linger on one problem our forces will be worn down by the enemy's overwhelming numbers. Therefore we hit once, hard, not in singular raids." Calling up a holoimage of Nirauan Needa rose from his seat. The image depicted the planet and the latest formation of the enemy fleet. "You see, the problem we have is this: if we continue chipping away at them piecemeal they can ignore us and continue their conquest almost unchecked. We have to show them that we are a force to be reckoned with, that we are worthy enemies that have to be put down at all costs. They have to pursue."

"Why?" General Litteera asked bluntly, crossing his arms across his chest quite pointedly. 

"According to our sources," Thrawn answered, "the enemy uses living ships. It is astounding in itself that a creature can survive in open space at all, but we all know it is possible. Some creatures fall into a trance to survive the trip between worlds, others use different means. But all need to return to a place to refuel their resources, resources not found in open space, naturally. The same applies to the Yuuzhan Vong. Their ships, if forced to pursue, will be weakened by increasing lack of food and breathing matter, plus the demands put on them by engaging us in battles." The Grand Admiral's smile turned decidedly mean. "There are many beautiful worlds out here in the Unknown Regions," he told the assembly softly. "Beautiful, and very deadly."

"I understand. What you are telling us that we will goad the enemy onto these dangerous worlds and let nature take its course," Admiral Hxenti said with a nod. "A shrewd strategy. But, knowing you, Grand Admiral, that won't be everything."

"It isn't. But first things first. Admiral Needa," Thrawn continued, "I want you and Captain Palleon to prepare your task forces." Addressing the rest of the commanders he let a blank mask fall over his face. "Your orders will be with you shortly, ladies and gentlemen. Captain Hellermann, a word with you."

Anakin felt very good to have the opportunity to fly the Chiss clawcraft into this battle. As maneuverable as a TIE fighter and outfitted with a scoutship's shields, his vessel promised to become a formidable tool for destruction. Guiltily, he thought back on Roj Kell's parting words, but this was no game, no silly powerplay. This was a deliberate move, one of many more to come. He knew that in the bonding that last night he had only received a very small portion of the ancient Sith Lord's knowledge, and he suspected that Kell had chosen this gift well. An understanding for the Yuuzhan Vong and their culture, a painful burden, surely. But it would be his sole weapon in the defense of his home. Kell had given Anakin the means to destroy the Yuuzhan Vong, should he chose to, something he himself had not been able to find the conviction to do. To completely annihilate a people and its culture, for no other reason other than to let the galaxy survive in its diversity. A diversity that would ensure balance, if preserved. 

"Incoming fighters," Naas Deron's voice announced over the comm. "Shall we meet them?"

"Of course." Throttling the fighter up to speed Anakin took the lead. Puket and Deron followed him in single file. They entered the corridor the Executor had plowed through the mind field and that the invaders would use to land their own troops, and were quickly joined by another flight of clawcraft. It served to confuse the enemy to have each ship launch from different sectors in the quadrant around the fortress. And it gave each pilot the opportunity to chose his or her battleground.

As expected the Yuuzhan Vong fleet continued its descent unpertubed. Only one of the giant ships – a worldship, Anakin corrected himself mentally – had remained after the battle, and that in itself was a great accomplishment for the alliance fleet, that they had managed to take out the other five, but there were enough smaller ships to give them trouble, not to mention the single fighters. Once the Chiss flight had cleared the mine field they were immediately swarmed by exactly those fighters, leaving the larger ships to guarding the planet and the ground transports. 

As Naas Deron had rightly observed the Chiss in their maneuverable, fast fighters were bait, intended to goad the enemy into a game of hunter and prey. It was also a test of their commander's farsight and discipline. The enemy's reaction now, told Anakin quite a few things. One: this fleet was no being coordinated by a yammosk any longer. Second: the fleet commander had contemptuously decided to thwart the infidels. Infidels, Anakin thought with a smile that, had he seen its reflection in a mirror, he would have found very reminiscent of Roj Kell's. What did they know? Stripped of belief everything was equal, everything subject to life and death and the rules that defined both. But that belief was what he had to respect. With that knowledge came new responsibilities, new bonds and chains, that stilled his mind, before he reached out to touch the Force, to smash the enemy. No senseless destruction. No show of strength toward children that would not understand it anyway. 

He met the enemy in a blinding rush of adrenaline and long-honed play of reflexes that let him guide his ship unscathed through the Yuuzhan Vong fighters. They seemed rock-like – corals, his newfound memories supplied – and decidedly organic. Anakin spun his own ship into a long dive and started pelleting one of the smaller cruisers that had begun descending toward Nirauan's surface. Naas Deron and Puket were still following in his wake. They would roll their ships out of their single file formation to counter enemy fighters now and then, but always return to copy his own flight path. That way they could watch one another's backs, while guarding his too. 

Then the Yuuzhan Vong commander decided that it would be his best bet to crush the offensive by pushing the Chiss back through the mine field. And the Chiss obediently did fall back, even if they appeared to be fighting the inevitable defiantly. Their retreat urged the cruisers and starfighters to move more aggressively, and the Chiss pilots did their best to make their pursuers enjoy a good challenge. The dogfights grew more desperate once they had passed the mine screen, and then, suddenly, the flight broke apart, each fighter choosing its own direction.

Anakin mentally wished his companions well, as he veered off toward the northern hemisphere of Nirauan. Behind him, the first enemy cruisers began landing. Suddenly his original flight was completed once more, as Deron and Puket fell into a triangle formation with him. There had to be at least twenty coral fighters – skippers, coral skippers – in pursuit. Anakin dove into the long run though the canyons that led toward the fortress hidden in the mountains and now utterly useless in the defense of the planet. But the Yuuzhan Vong did not know that. They would rejoice at finding the enemy's apparent headquarters, and more fighters would be summoned to raze the fortress. Anakin doubted strongly that they would succeed. The fortress could withstand almost anything anyone could throw at it. Let them bite their teeth out at that, while the contaminated air took its toll on their ships. 

"They have taken the bait," General Sa'lym'a announced, his glowing eyes hidden by the macrobinoculars as he stared up at the sky. 

"Excellent." Turning toward the technicians at his side Voss Parck nodded at them grimly. "Ready? All right. Admiral to Flight Commanders. Begin Operation Fireworks."

"All mines armed," a young technician announced unnecessarily.

"Then launch, please."

The operation was actually very simple. When Captain Palleon had first ordered the screen to be deployed in space around Nirauan he had had his technicians erect a mine field that started just a few meters above the atmosphere and spread five miles into space. The mines had had to be equipped with special drives to keep them up there at all, of course, since the planet's gravity was pulling at them too. Now, Parck planned on using them as unexpected missiles that would crash unchecked into the landing cruisers and would perhaps even hit some surprised enemy fighters. 

For ten minutes the evening sky turned into a display of fireworks, as the mines plummeted toward the planet. But Admiral Parck did not spare much attention on that. He was busy relaying orders to his troops. An hour later an Imperial model speeder bike broke through the dense undergrowth surrounding the admiral's makeshift headquarters. Pulling the vehicle to a stop Anakin Skywalker removed the goggles that had protected his eyes during the ride and dismounted the bike elgantly.

"Their commander has recalled the fighters that were trying to punch a hole in the fortress. That makes an exposure of one and a half hours. I had the distinct feeling that they returned somewhat sluggishly to the worldship," he added. " But they will leave the area alone now. What about the ground forces?"

"Our scouts are monitoring them," General Sa'lym'a explained. "Few have landed in the contaminated area and they are retreating too."

"Good. Which direction?"

"They will meet us at dawn," the Chiss general told the Dark Lord with pride in his tone. 

"Excellent. Naas Deron will be leading the flight into the battle. The enemy transports are armored, but I think we can crack them with sufficient explosive force. Which means preparing the battle-field."

"We have already begun preparations," Parck said wearily. "But if they receive further reinforcements I am not so sure about our chances."

"They won't receive those. Grand Admiral Thrawn will make sure of that."

"You have contacted him?" the admiral asked, suddenly hopeful, but Skywalker shook his head. 

"No. But it is logical. He will expect us to goad them into believing us easy prey. So leaving troops behind will be no problem for them once Thrawn arrives to lure them away."

"How do you want to know?" Parck wondered, confused by the Dark Lord's logic. 

"The base is not important to the conquest that much. All they need is to put us out of commission. Then they can proceed with tracing their way back toward Almashin and Csilla. After all, they have already wiped out the perimeter forts around Miecona and left them again, without establishing bases of their own. So we can assume that all they want to achieve is to knock out any opposition."

"So they are herding our fleet toward the heart of the Chiss Empire."

"Yes. That is what I believe they are trying to accomplish."

"What do you want us to do down here?" Voss Parck asked quietly.

"Destroy them," the Dark Lord replied, an icy look in his blue eyes. "No Yuuzhan Vong warrior must survive this battle." He clapped the shocked admiral's shoulder amiably as he strode past the two commanders in the direction of the quickly erected shelters. "Do not worry, there will be other battles here. More foes for you to outwit. But tomorrow's battle, I fear, must become a slaughter."

Night had settled over the camp, and Anakin was meditating. He was seated outside, in the cool air of Nirauan, listening to the distant rumble of whatever the Yuuzhan Vong groundtroops were doing across the mountains. Naas Deron and his flight would have sought shelter for the night, perhaps, although he did not put it past the Sith Lord to lead his pilots on a few raids throughout the night. 

Sighing, the Dark Lord leaned back to settle on the ground. He gazed up at the stars above, frowning. The Grand Admiral had survived, he was certain of that. Why he was so sure he did not know, but he recognised the truth of his emotions. But, knowing Thrawn, the Chiss would already have put his truly magnificent mind to the task of planning the enemy's downfall. He would be sly and sneaky in his strategy, and disarmingly frank in his tactics. But Anakin doubted that the admiral would be able to outmaneuver the yammosk in the long run. No matter how shrewd his plans, not matter how devastating his victories, sooner or later the Yuuzhan Vong would anticipate him. And when they did they would not allow a single ship of the Grand Admiral's forces to survive. 

In the darkness of Nirauan's night Anakin Skywalker smiled leisurely. He could understand now, why Roj Kell had warned him so insistently. Knowledge could be quite exhiliarating. And even without the Cor'dan's gift he knew about the power of pride. The Yuuzhan Vong were proud, his memories told him, they were demanding creatures. They wanted it all and were willing to pay any price for this conquest. Because they were a dying race. That too, was part of his knowledge. Dying at the rate their worldships were dying. They needed a new home, needed it desperately. But Anakin would bar the door for them, would cast them outside, into oblivion. The corners of his mouth curled back in satisfaction as he contemplated that future. Such weak flesh, so dependent on living things, so vulnerable. There was an end to anything alive, and he was that end. 

__

Let my prayer be heard throughout the universe and let it guide my way through the endless night. Let it embrace light and dark, death and life, and give me the power to conquer this enemy. 

The Eisenhart was torn out of the safety of hyperspace by Nirauan's gravity quite brutally, but Gilead Palleon had been expecting the sudden lurch and had braced himself against it. Spread out before them the remains of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet were assembled above the gaping hole the Executor's fall had plowed through the mine screen. The single giant ship was hovering straight above the entrance to that channel down to the surface, with smaller ships guarding it in a defensive ring. 

"Bring her up to attack speed," he heard himself order quietly. But that was a distant voice, a voice led by routine. Spread out on either side of the fleet's flagship were ten more ships, a mixed group of Star Destroyers and lighter cruisers, with a heavier dreadnaught scattered into the line here and there. An impressive force, for sure. 

With the Eisenhart the rest of his task force picked up speed, and started a quick advance on the enemy. The response was immediate. Abandoning the sentinel position above the planet the giant Yuuzhan Vong cruiser moved to meet them, with an escort of maybe ten smaller ships tagging along. Scores upon scores of enemy fighters accompanied that force, but Palleon had his orders. 

"Launch all squadrons," he told Commander Teer Shikay quietly. 

Their flights of starfighters had been diminished by the last battle, but the Grand Admiral had deemed the survivors a sufficient enough strength to put Admiral Needa's new tactics to the test. In the quickly skecthed up simulations they had performed extremely well, too, and Palleon was actually anxious to see if they would stand this real test. 

The enemy ships met them head-on, but by then the alliance fleet's fighters had already established a deadly screen to shield the larger ships. Three concave lines made up a deadly crossfire that was inescapable. While they kept the enemy fighters busy the larger ships rose above and dove beneath the fighter line to start their assault on the enemy's main forces and casually picked off any enemy fighter that crossed their lines of fire. 

Gilead Palleon risked a glance over to where the Grand Admiral was seated in his command chair, seemingly intent on a screen in front of him, and oblivious to the battle that was actually going very well.

"The fighter screen is holding," the captain informed him carefully, but Thrawn only nodded. 

"Of course," he said. "And now ..." He trailed off, and leaned back in his seat with a small smile on his lips when the second task force under Lorth Needa's command dropped out of hyperspace above Nirauan and immediately descended on the backs of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet. 

"Sir!" Teer Shikay called out suddenly, sounding nervous. With a questioning glance at the Chiss admiral Palleon walked over to the commander to listen to the strange report of one of their pilots. "...coming though the canopy!" the man's panicked voice announced. "Some insect, I think. This is impossible! No -!" Then there was only static on the pilot's channel. 

"A new weapon?" Palleon asked quietly. 

"Commander Shikay, can you give me the last status report on that pilot's fighter?" Thrawn requested smoothly, ignoring the captain. 

"Of course, sir. Here." Shikay pointed at one of his many screens. 

"He lost his shields shortly before this incident, it would seem," the Grand Admiral mused aloud. "Keep an eye on similar reports, Commander, and compare them to what data we have now."

"Yes, sir."

But Thrawn's attention was already elsewhere. Caught between the two battle groups the enemy was slowly being ground into quite a lot of wreckage. Only the single giant cruiser seemed to continue withstanding the combined assault of both Thrawn's and Needa's forces. 

"They will not retreat," the Grand Admiral announced. "None of them is to escape. This victory must be total."

Nodding mutely Palleon turned toward Teer Shikay to relay that order. The commander met his eyes grimly. Once the Yuuzhan Vong high command got news of this defeat they would have no choice but to take the base at Nirauan serious. That way, Thrawn had turned the tables on the enemy. If they ignored Nirauan they could be certain that the Chiss commander would come after them with deadly force. If they took up the challenge they would have to split their own forces to get at him, across miles of Chiss controlled territory. 

And then, as fast as it had started, the battle was over. Gilead Palleon blinked his eyes in surprise when he heard Commander Shikay order the cease fire. 

"Our work here is done," the Grand Admiral announced in the silence that suddenly permeated the bridge, that had been so busy only moments before. "Commander Shikay, were there more incidents?"

"No, sir. At least none were reported."

"Very well. We are leaving." He flipped a switch at the comm installed into his chair. "Admiral Needa, we will meet you at Almashin in ten days from now."

"Understood, Grand Admiral," Lorth Needa answered coolly. "Good hunting to you and your troops."

"To all of us."

Dawn came gradually, and Anakin gazed at the light that rose above the mountains, an unnatural hue of purple and orange, filtered through the poisonous fumes that were still escaping from the Executor's broken bulk, he concluded. He had been awake for some hours already, and had had an opportunity to witness the destruction of the enemy fleet overhead along with Voss Parck and Sa'lym'a. All three commanders were elated by that success, and confident that they would have no trouble in overwhelming the ground forces left behind on the planet. Very soon the single Star Destroyer the alliance fleet had left behind – undoubtedly to pick up their own stranded troops – would begin sending shuttles down, and Anakin had vowed to himself that by then the enemy would be history already. First, though, they had to lead the Yuuzhan Vong ground troops into the trap set for them. 

Parck and Sa'lym'a had done an excellent job in determining their battle ground. Nestled in the slopes of a few hills that rose into Nirauan's primary mountain range a hundred miles south from where they stood now, the Chiss had established a hard front, with very nasty surprises to back it up. On the hills they had deployed a few heavy guns to contain the enemy down in the valley, and Naas Deron's flight would provide cover from above. Unfortunately the Chiss troops had been forced to retreat beyond the corridor Parck's Operation Fireworks had opened in the mine field, and therefore the Star Destroyer would be unable to assist with her heavy lasers. Additionally the ground troops could not yet risk giving their exact position away. 

With a sigh Anakin turned away from studying the ground troop deployment and gave the two commanders next to him a grim smile. "We are as ready as can be, I would say. I am confident that the mines, in addition to the heavy guns and the fighters overhead, will crack them easily. All we have to do then is mop up after them."

"What if their resistance is not broken?" General Sa'lym'a asked quietly.

"Then I expect your troops to prove their worth," the Dark Lord told him coolly. "You are among the best out here, and I intend to show the enemy exactly that. Now, you, Admiral, will be coordinating both mine and General Sa'lym'a's forces, since you know the terrain best. Our respective troops are in position already, so I suggest, General, that we had better join them." He gave Voss Parck a sharp nod and a smile. "Do not forget what I have told you."

It had been a crash course in Yuuzhan Vong culture last night, for both commanders, and Anakin had felt a bit strange when he had told them how exactly he had come by this knowledge. The queer looks Voss Parck had given him had spoken volumes, and he was certain that Sa'lym'a felt the same as the admiral. Both were aware of the fact that it had been Roj Kell, who had initiated this invasion in the first place. Although Anakin had also explained to them the finer points of the ancient Sith Lord's plans, they were very reluctant to forgive that first offense. And that Kell had now chosen Anakin to succeed him ... It had not served to boost his authority among the Chiss, that was for sure. But none of that mattered any longer. They would meet the enemy soon, and they had to work together to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong troops left on the planet. And Anakin had vowed to himself that he would prove himself worthy of his new role in this scheme. 

He smiled a bit as he stalked over to the armored transport that would take him to his contingent of troops. 

Two hours later the battle was in full swing. The Chiss troops were exceeding even Voss Parck's expectations in this fight, and he had had ample opportunity to study their tactics. Under his watchful gaze the soldiers managed to adapt to any new development in record time. That way the troops under the Dark Lord's command prevented the enemy from capturing the heavy guns stationed atop the hillsides, that were reaping a horrendous harvest among the Yuuzhan Vong ground troops. He had not quite understood why the Dark Lord had insisted on waging an open battle instead of using guerillia tactics, but then the reports of their scouts had eased his nerves somewhat. Apparently both the initial battle and the following attacks conducted by the Grand Admiral's fleet, had diminished the enemy forces to such an extent that the ground troops each side had left behind were close to equal in strength. 

Of course, what Skywalker had told them about the philosophy on warfare the Yuuzhan Vong believed in, he could also deduce that it would be a very fierce battle. As was proving to become true now. Overhead Nass Deron and Puket were leading the remaining Chiss fighters on strafing runs across the enemy lines. The agile ships drew some of the ground fire, thereby opening breaches for the Chiss to strike at underdefended assault vehicles. Living things, if Skywalker was to be believed. Parck was still very uneasy about the fact that Roj Kell, of all people, had apparently provided the Dark Lord with that information. The man certainly could not be trusted, and the admiral had a hard time shedding his suspicions about the Sith's true intentions. But then a call came in that changed everything.

"Sir," his aide called out from the comm station. "I have Captain Hellermann of the Chimaera on the line."

"What? What kind of fool would contact us now and give away the headquarter's position?" Parck roared, truly angry, and snatched the headphones from the comm operator's ears. "Hellermann! We're in enough trouble as it is!"

"Admiral, I don't have much time. This is an emergency call and I'll make it quick. Look up."

The call disconnected and Parck stared at the phones, disbelieving. Then, hurrying toward the exit of the shelter, he picked up his macrobinoculars as he went and raced over to the small ledge overlooking the distant battle-field. He raised the binoculars to his eyes quickly and zoomed in on the Chimaera's position. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw the three massive Yuuzhan Vong ships that had moved leisurely into position around the Star Destroyer. The Chimaera stood no chance, that much was certain. And the arrival of another enemy fleet would balance the victory they might have otherwise achieved today. He lowered the macrobinoculars slowly, unwilling to witness the death of another ship's crew. They were losing too many, far too many. And if the battle continued, he was certain that his troops down there would also be annihilated. 

"Break camp," he ordered quietly, and his aide, who had followed him out into the open, turned wordlessly to relay that command. The admiral made his way back into the shelter and nodded at the comm officer. "Contact Naas Deron and tell him to create a diversion. They'll be sending fighters down soon. And send messengers to Lord Skywalker and General Sa'lym'a. We are retreating."

"Where to?"

Voss Parck remained silent for a while, but then an idea formed in his head. "They are to retreat toward the mountains. General Sa'lym'a knows the caves there."

"But the contamination...."

"Lieutenant, I gave you an order. And you will not question me. Is that clear?"

The man nodded hurriedly. 

Turning away again Parck heaved a tiny, imperceptible sigh. Things were never easy.

From his vantage point next to the heavy turbo lasers of the gun emplacement up on the hill Anakin was watching his troops' progress attentively. They were doing well, and it seemed as if the enemy would truly yield to a heavy cross-fire. Although 'yield' was the wrong expression. They were being ground into shreds and pieces, but still they came on, trying to overrun the Chiss lines. He had to hang on to his composure dearly, for the death and violence registered even more acutely in his mind, resonating from his very being, than it had ever before. Yet he made himself endure it, made himself embrace that chaos of destruction. His enemies were hiding their intentions behind that shield, and he had to penetrate it to learn their plans. No matter how bitter the experience. 

But then, instinctively, he looked up just a moment before a shockwave of painful, violent death struck from above. Instead of shielding himself against it, though, he let it flow through him, let it bleed away from his awareness gradually, to sieve information even from this terrible demise of thousands of people. The answer was all to clear: The Chimaera had been destroyed by another enemy fleet. 

Up in the sky above the battle-field he saw Puket fight with her ship's controls, undoubtedly shocked by the aftermath of the Star Destroyer's annihilation. But she caught herself quickly and joined her flight again. The clawcraft veered away from the battle abruptly, and for a moment Anakin was nonplussed by that move. But then he realized that the ships overhead would launch their own fighters soon, and then the ground troops down here would be very easy prey for their weapons. 

The Dark Lord frowned at the battle that was still raging down in the valley. They had to retreat, and that fast. As if called by his thoughts a Chiss messenger drew up a swoop next to him. 

"Orders from Admiral Parck, sir, you are to retreat into the mountains," he told him coolly.

Anakin gave the soldier a tight nod. "Order received. Here's a message for the admiral: He should consider the possibility that the enemy is seeking another goal, and that the attacks here merely served to draw troops away from the real target."

"Another target? Sir, do you have a suspicion?" the messenger asked quietly. 

"Not yet. The enemy's motives are a bit unclear in this." 

In fact, they were less than that. Unfortunately, his newfound knowledge yielded no clues as to why the Yuuzhan Vong would create such a massive diversion here, in the Unknown Regions. But perhaps the strategic goal was two-dimensional. Perhaps they did not only want to conquer the Chiss, but also achieve something else. But what?

"Perhaps we should change our tactics. We have to find out what they are planning," he mused aloud. "For now we will retreat. I will meet with Admiral Parck and General Sa'lym'a tonight."

"Sir, it seems the enemy is moving out again," a human officer told him as he hurried up to Anakin and the messenger, who was already preparing to leave again.

Seeking the fleet overhead once more the Dark Lord took the offered macrobinoculars gratefully. Could it be that they simply had wanted to strand the Chiss troops here on Nirauan before taking up the pursuit of Thrawn's fleet? That, of course, would be a very welcome solution to this riddle. But what he saw happening up there was disheartening. Anakin lowered the binocs abruptly, a snarl marring his scarred face. 

"They are splitting their forces," he announced. "Two worldships are remaining here, and the others – They cannot hope to stand against Thrawn, not after what has happened here. They must have another target. You," he addressed the messenger sharply. "Get going. Sergeant," he told the human, "you will relay the order to retreat."

As he turned away to ponder the best route to plot the retreat Anakin was frantically trying to find the answer to the very pressing question of what the Yuuzhan Vong were planning. The resistance on Nirauan was broken, no matter how many Chiss were still on planet. The fleet itself was gone, and if Thrawn went according to their plan he would have given one command to Lorth Needa and taken another, so they could come at the enemy from two sides, chasing down the single task forces along the Lieman Corridor, while they pushed toward Csilla and Almashin. 

Wait. He was not thinking like the enemy. But it was so hard to delve deeper into their philosophy, that had been distorted, to his mind, by Roj Kell's own prejudices toward the Yuuzhan Vong. The old man seemed to hate those with a passion, and in a way Anakin understood that very well. Now, if the goal was to knock out the Chiss and at the same time divert the attention of their allies elsewhere, what target would be the most prominent? A place of power, something whose destruction would strike at the heart of this galaxy. That left two possibilities, and the Dark Lord did ponder the source of the enemy's knowledge of those places. If they were from another galaxy, how could they have so intimate a knowledge of the political factions? 

Thrawn. Of course. Thrawn had ordered the annihilation of the Jem'luz, had unknowingly destroyed the wall their rituals had erected against said invaders. Too late to change what had happened decades ago. They were paying the price anyway. And the target would be either Coruscant or else Byss. For once Anakin was very grateful for Mon Mothma's suspicions concerning his intentions. Had she allowed him to take over fleet command, instead of taking only a small task force to Byss ... But this way the Core had sufficient defenses. For now. But that did not mean that they did not have to stop the advance here. There was no other choice. 

Walking into her quarters Padmé felt worn out and tired. It had been a very long day, and although she enjoyed Han's way of telling adventures, she had not managed to hold her fatigue at bay any longer. Suddenly her ears picked up the sound of running water. She froze. Of course, anyone could have entered in her absence, since she had not bothered to lock the door. Padmé stood undecided. Perhaps she should get some help... When she moved back toward the door, though, something caught her eye. It was a leather wristband that had been dropped carelessly on the table by the window. Its counterpart lay abandoned on the floor. And in an instant she knew who her visitor was. Her hands were trembling as she reached for the wall to support herself. If he was here ... 

"I have been expecting you."

She turned her head over to gaze at the tall man who had just exited the fresher. His long white hair had a fresh gleam, and he looked positively relaxed. Padmé nodded slowly.

"I see I have surprised you," he continued. 

Walking over to the table to pick up his armor, Roj Kell was smiling to himself. He was dressed in brown pants and shirt, matching the wristbands he slung around his forearms with long-honed, economic movements. Once he was finished he picked up the quarterstaff that lay beside the bed and that Padmé noticed only when he reached for it. Facing her again he seemed ready to do battle, but she was not at all sure who he had chosen to be his adversay. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked at last.

"I needed some rest," he explained casually, before he dropped into one of the chairs by the table. "Hard days for all of us. I have met with your husband," he concluded quite abruptly. 

"What?" Padmé had joined him in a few strides and sat down in the chair opposite from his. "Is he well?"

"For now, yes. Nirauan has fallen and the Chiss have retreated. They were forced to leave ground troops behind. Your husband is with that band."

Padmé felt her face grow cold. "No," she breathed, fear clutching at her heart brutally. Her dark eyes fastened on his. "I must go to him."

Kell shook his head slightly. "I disagree. You should not put yourself in danger. You need to be strong, need to be there for your daughter, if – " he broke off and averted his gaze. "Of course, you could send someone..."

She jumped on that proposal like a starving gundark. "Han! Han would be willing to go!"

He kept silent for a long time, his pale eyes regarding her with profound sadness. Then, his movements as elegant as ever, he leaned slowly toward her, holding her frightened gaze easily. "Do you remember the talk we had on our way back to Coruscant together? You thanked me for having given you the insight to understand your husband better." 

Padmé nodded mutely, remembering all too well the desperate, flirring storm of her emotions at that time, fanned by the sweltering heat of Korriban and the ancient Sith's magic. She had ended that storm herself, but at what price? He smiled at her then, a sad smile, and leaned back into his chair once more. She met his eyes, bitterly, and shook her head in denial. 

"You told me that I should not thank you yet." Anger rose inside her heart, filling it almost completely. "What have you done now? What have you done to him?" 

She had risen from her seat, not even noticing, and stood before him quivering with outrage, daring him to mock her further with his secrets. But his smile faded and his expression turned very serious.

"What have you done!" she screeched, blinded with sudden hatred.

"He is no longer part of this world, not entirely," Roj Kell told her then, his enchanting voice surprisingly bland, without emotion. "Yet the part of him that remains here belongs to you alone. You must be aware of the dangers this bond encompasses. In a way, you share his responsibilities."

Padmé felt her anger fade, replaced by an icy wasteland of fear. "No," she breathed and fell to her knees before him. "Don't do this to me." Tentatively she grasped his hand, held it in both of hers, her gesture more than just pleading. She would do anything to have her husband returned to her, anything to spare him this terrible fate. 

"Too late, I fear." Suddenly his pale eyes turned very soft. "I could wait no longer, Padmé." His free hand reached up to stroke her hair gently, and she felt the tears fall then, her heart moved by his unexpected tenderness. 

It was as if he were changing himself, mellowed by the recent events somehow. He seemed more vulnerable now, and for a long moment the former queen considered exacting her revenge on him then, to hurt him in a way he had never been hurt before. But then she remembered the story he had told he on Korriban, how he had loved and killed a Jedi Master, his only love, to be free to pursue his dream. There was nothing she could think of that could be crueler than what punishment he had chosen himself. Looking up at him she managed a small smile of gratitude. 

"Thank you for giving me that chance," she whispered. 

"It was nothing," he replied, and the beginning of one of his trademark smiles appeared at the corners of his mouth. 

But the mood was broken abruptly when something passed Padmé at high speed. She stared at the projectile that had been caught in Kell's left hand. His face was very pale, when she raised her head again to seek his gaze. It was the telltale palor of pure anger, she saw, and rose gracefully to step out of his way. 

Turning casually, she felt no surprise at seeing the armored warrior standing in the doorway. She had not locked the door again, she remembered. The bounty-hunter's masked face did not give anything away, naturally, but Padmé felt a jolt of excitement and delicious dread when Kell rose from his seat, unfolding his long limbs in one smooth move that seemed to propell him across the room effortlessly, like an arrow loosened from the bow, true on target. His left hand locked around Boba Fett's armored neck Kell was holding the other spread-eagled against the wall, proving a prowess that belied his age completely. 

"So she was foolish enough to give in to her childish desire for vengeance," the ancient Sith declared, his voice filling the room with the sound of a million whispering flames. The bounty-hunter's body jerked helplessly as he tried to fight the invisible bonds Kell had latched onto him. "And that she chose you ... I wonder if she realized the insult of sending a clone to kill me. But of course she did. That is part of her vengeance."

Fett, still struggling feebly, was suddenly released, as Kell turned away, his attention seemingly focused on something else. The light that appeared in his pale eyes was frightening, but no more so than the grim snarl that gradually turned into a sneer on his aged features. Boba Fett, ignorant of his intended victim's change of mood, lunged at the old man's back, his left hand pulling his blaster free, while the right held a knife at the ready. He did not get very far. Dropping to the floor with a grunt he lay there, his shoulders heaving, and tried to gather his wits again.

"Be a good boy and cease this foolishness," Padmé heard Roj Kell tell the bounty-hunter softly. "This is neither the time nor the place. Besides, we have other things to worry about. The war, it would seem, has reached Bilbringi after all."

"I am not certain if the New Republic can accept this sort of secrecy. Trade routes should be known publicly, don't you agree?" Leia asked sweetly, her dark eyes boring into Anto Andorwyn's face. He regarded her with as much composure as he could muster, but she could sense that he was close to agreeing to her terms regarding the trade charter of the Confederate Zone. 

"But you will agree, Princess, that in terms of security this would be a milestone in trade," he tried.

"No, I do not agree," Leia answered sternly. "Trade routes are usually safely plotted routes through hyperspace. Not only traders benefit from those. I fear that, should this paragraph prevail, the routes will be sold at horrendous prices to commercial liners as well as private ship owners. It is a scam, no more."

"I fear she has got you bang to rights, Lord Andorwyn," Tomas Piett remarked quietly from his seat at the head of the table. "But this is a creative session, of course, and everyone is welcome to voice his or her opinion."

As if to mock his words a shrill alarm started ringing throughout the conference room. A moment later the door opened to admit Raisa Tobyn. She gave the admiral a cool nod, then addressed the entire assembly. "An unidentified fleet has dropped into the system. They seem to have hostile intentions. Captain Illichiyame is trying to hail them. Unsuccessfully, so far."

"How strong a fleet are we talking about?" Piett inquired coolly. 

"One capital ship, a mass of smaller fighters. I can have a visual for you in a moment, once the Freedom is close enough."

"Don't let her get too close," the admiral warned, looking at Leia. 

Suddenly she understood. The Star Destroyer Freedom, left behind by her father to guard Bilbringi against exactly the event that was taking place now, was a New Republic ship. And in his capacity as representative of the soon-to-be Confederate Zone Piett had no authority with the ship's Bith captain. She carefully glanced at the man seated next to her. Han, bored so far by the hourlong negotiations, seemed bright and alert now that their trip to Bilbringi had taken such a dangerous turn. Then an image from the Star Destroyer's bridge came alive above the holo projector installed into the conference table. Everyone present gaped at the size of the enemy flagship.

"Why can't we just drop the formalities?" Han asked, a frown marring his forehead. 

"On her own the Freedom won't stand a chance," Leia mused, frantically wracking her brain for a solution to this dilemma. 

When someone cleared his throat ominously her head whipped around to stare at General Oethal of Corulag. "Yes, General?" 

"I had brought a fleet, stationed close by, but of course not so close as to violate Bilbringi's security charter, just in case." He shrugged. "I am a military man. I don't like to go to a meeting unarmed."

"Irrelevant, General. Perhaps now would be the time to call upon that fleet!" Anto Andorwyn exclaimed harshly.

For some reason Leia found her gaze redirected to look at Tomas Piett. The admiral was studying her calmly, as if waiting for something to happen, and she got the distinct feeling that he was somehow responsible for the previous script. 

"I fear, General," he began, "that we have a problem here. Without an official request your moving the fleet to Bilbringi would violate the New Republic Borders Act. The Freedom's captain would have no choice but to classify your move as hostile."

Leia felt her cheeks heaten. So that was his gamble! If she posed an official request to General Oethal to assist Captain Illichiyame, she would be forced to recognize the Confederate Zone itself, too. For a moment she felt truly angry at the admiral for playing so cruel a game at a time like this. But she also knew that her decision would decide not only the fate of the Confederate Zone, but also the fate of everyone here on Bilbringi. Rising from her seat she made her decision.

"General Oethal, on behalf of the New Republic, I request you to join your fleet with Captain Illichiyame's troops."

The general gave Tomas Piett a questioning glance, before he shifted his attention to Lemit Zickorey, Bilbringi's acting governor. "Gentlemen?"

"The request is granted," the admiral said at last. "Under my command. General, if you please, alert your ships. Princess, I would ask you to inform Captain Illichiyame of these new developments."

"Of course," she replied wearily. 

Han caught her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. And, looking into his eyes, she knew that he had seen what she had. That the Confederate Zone, that they had sought to establish in peaceful negotiations, had been borne out of war after all. Leaning toward her, he kissed her cheek gently. 

"Life is never easy," he whispered.

TBC


	27. Chapter 26 - The Foe Within

****

****

Chapter 26 – The Foe Within

****

Han and Leia were just making their way back from the comm center of the governor's residence to go and warn her mother when they met Padmé halfway. And she was not alone. Han moved his hand toward his blaster instantly, but he hesitated. What was this about? Leia put a cautioning hand on his arm, but she seemed surprised too. But she quickly shook off her uncertainty and gave Roj Kell a nod. 

"I suppose I should not be surprised. The Empress is well?" she asked, her voice very cool.

"I am not here on behalf of the Empire," he answered smoothly.

"And you did not answer my question. What about Irek?"

"He is dead." 

Han winced at the finalty of the old man's words and he saw Leia's eyes narrow in anger. "And was it you who executed him?" she inquired, her voice sounding awfully strained.

"Of course."

"I see." The princess raised her chin haughtily: "On Alderaan we had a proverb that seems very fitting now. 'A man may find his own image reflected in the eyes of his son'." Her lips compressed into a grim line. "He must have been truly ugly to your mind that you could kill him in cold blood."

Han flinched at Leia's harsh tone, but he also felt with her. His own mind was filled with fury at the old man's cold logic, that had condemned his offspring to such a senseless death. 

Roj Kell did not answer at first. But then he nodded very slowly, accepting the princess' sentence. "In the depth of his heart and soul, Leia, he was innocent. But his mind was filled with such darkness that it indeed made his presence unbearable."

Han's jaw dropped, and then he really did draw his blaster. "You bastard!" he shouted, and went for the older man, driven by headless anger. It was Padmé, who intercepted him.

"No! Han!" she called, and put a hand on his chest to stop him. "Han, calm down," she continued. "We cannot change what has happened, but we can perhaps influence current events. Leia," she addressed her daughter urgently, "your father needs dire help. He and his troops have been stranded on Nirauan."

"What!"

The former queen nodded slowly. "Yes. Nirauan has fallen to the enemy."

"Says who?" Han snarled and gestured toward Kell with his blaster. "Mister Mean 'n' Sneaky here? I wouldn't trust him an inch."

"It is true, Han," Leia told him quietly. "I can feel it."

He gave her a dubious glance. "You sure, honey? What if he has addled your brains too?" She punched a fist into his shoulder hard, never averting her eyes from her mother's face. "Ouch! Okay, okay. I get it. So," he grunted and addressed Padmé again. "You want me to fly out there, all on my own, and bail him out?"

"Not on your own," Padmé explained. "Andarack could accompany you."

"Andarack! Of all people – I'd rather have Mister Coldblooded with me!"

"That can be arranged," Kell commented.

"Nah, thanks," Han retorted nastily. "Where's Fett?"

Padmé threw a questioning glance at Roj Kell, who did not quite turn to meet Han's eye. "I sent him on an errand," the ancient Sith explained at last. 

Han frowned, but decided not to press the man further. "Then it's Andarack," he decided. "The Falcon's fast and agile, so I suppose we can do it. We should be leaving right away. But, Leia," he turned toward the princess again. "You and your mother, you have to get away."

A hand fell on his shoulder and he gazed up into Roj Kell's pale green eyes in surprise. "I fear I will need the princess here," the old man explained.

Han slapped the offending hand away angrily. "Don't you dare touch me," he snarled. "Leia, don't –" But she wasn't listening.

"What do you need me to do?" Throwing up his hands in disgust the Corellian turned away. "Han, wait!" she told him, and then she was beside him, drawing him a bit farther away from the group. Her dark brown eyes gazed at him earnestly. "Listen, Han, I would love nothing more than to go with you, or return to Coruscant. but my place is here, do you understand? I cannot leave now." She rose on tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek. "Please, take care of my father. He needs you."

Wrapping her into his arms, he drew her closer and kissed her deeply, no matter who was watching. Once he let her go again he gave her a roguish smile and ran a hand through her dark hair. "Promise you will be careful," he whispered.

"Promise."

Tomas Piett was already on his way to the Star Destroyer Freedom, when he received the news from down planet. And so his first words to Captain Illichiyame were: "We are going to retreat."

The Bith stared at him as if he had gone mad. "Sir, the enemy is going to engage us in about five minutes and we have to respond now!"

Dropping into the bridge's command chair nonchalantly the admiral gave the captain a tight smile. He was not at all intimidated by the Bith' reputation. He knew his skills and values far too well for any insecurity. 

"Captain, General Oethal's fleet won't join us until fifteen hours. That makes two hours of fighting for survival for this ship. If we stay here, the general's fleet won't have anyone to join. Clear?"

"Yes, sir, of course. But the planet will be undefended."

He gave her a hard glance. "Bilbringi? Undefended? We do have orbital defenses, and of course planetary ones."

"But two hours –"

He rose from his seat abruptly to gaze down at the planet spread out before them. He imagined Lemit Zickorey's palace down there, imagined the conference room, where he believed the princess would be right now, and thought about the future. 

"Two hours, Captain," he said quietly, "are more than enough."

"Close your eyes," he told her softly, and Leia flinched, when he lay his hands on her shoulders. This was far too close. She could feel his body brush against her back, and she was very aware of his voice, that filled her heart with a sweet siren song. But in the end she did comply. "Now, open your mind to mine. Can you sense it? Isn't it beautiful?"

Nodding slowly, the princess felt tears in her eyes, as she followed his lead and expanded her perception beyond the planet. He was right. What she could feel, diving deeper into the complexity of the distant Yuuzhan Vong worldship's being, was elating, majestic. It was a magnificent creature. So very alive. It was overwhelming. 

Then, gently, his thumbs pressed down on her shoulder blades and ran over her skin soothingly. "It is that, yes," he whispered, for her ears only. "But it will kill this planet, if you do not destroy it first. Your friends will die, if you do not strike first."

Leia swallowed hard as she let him guide her further into the ship's presence, a chaos of neuronic signals and flashing emotions. Being so close to him, her mind entwined with his, she felt intimidated, helpless, even. Yet she knew she had to trust him, or lose her way in enemy territory. Suddenly she thought she saw something, a cool, bluish strand of awareness that permeated the ship like a filigrane net. She felt his hands tighten on her shoulders, as if he were holding her back. Fear gripped her for precious seconds.

"What it that?" she asked quietly.

"The yammosk. It will try to stop you from killing the ship, so you have to be quick."

Leia frowned. "What if I defeat the yammosk instead?" Perhaps she could spare the ship's life, perhaps she would not have to shoulder the burden of killing thousands with it. 

"No one alive could match one of those, except maybe your father," Roj Kell told her sternly.

"Not even you?" 

"No. Not me. Especially not me. Now, concentrate again, please." 

His hands moved up her neck, gliding over her skin like the hint of a caress, and then his fingertips very gently dug into her hair, a stimulating pressure that made her feel light-headed and completely detached from the world around her. Her mind was floating above the planet, and she could see the lifelines that permeated the worldship, the channels filled with glowing plasma, ready to be hurled out at Tomas Piett's ships, that moved to engage the Yuuzhan Vong high above Bilbringi. Leia felt like some avenging ghost, all-powerful and filled to bursting with a desire to destroy this offensive creature before her.

"Relax," the ancient Sith Lord's enchanting voice intoned softly. "Be careful now. If the yammosk finds you first ..." He trailed off, leaving the threat unfinished. But the princess felt the urgency, the need, that called for her to make a decision quickly. 

Gathering the Force around her, she could easily identify the most vulnerable part of the worldship, and she realized why exactly Kell had warned her. The ship's brain was in direct contact with the yammosk. She had to sever the connection and kill the giant worldship before the war coordinator had a chance to interfere. She could feel the ancient Sith's presence backing her up, opening her mind to a power she had never known before, a vast ocean of life, infinite, that was focused solely on her. With breath-taking clarity she identified her target and struck. Then the aftermath of the worldship's sudden death hit her unshielded mind with enough force to knock her unconscious. 

Hands flying to her throat, Padmé moved toward her daughter as she crumpled to the floor in a boneless heap. But Roj Kell, standing behind the princess, caught her gently and sank down on his knees beside her, holding her tight. He was whispering soothing words in her ear, words her mother could not understand as she walked closer. Watching her daughter wrapped in the tall Sith Lord's embrace Padmé was torn between helpless fury and a strange feeling of possessiveness. She was jealous. Jealous of her daughter! But she remembered, oh, she remembered all too well, the way he had held her, consoling her, how he had brushed all her defenses aside to capture her mind back on Korriban. 

"Let her go," she told him icily when she had reached the pair. 

He turned his head, pale green eyes unfathomable, and gently lay Leia's prone form down. Rising gracefully, he straightened to his full, intimidating height, and suddenly Padmé felt totally embarrassed. He had to know what she was feeling ... Her face paling, she fled the room, uncertain of her own emotions. 

She found a deserted, small waiting room and launched herself at the elegant sofa that had been placed underneath the window. With utter longing, she pressed her palms against the transparisteel, a silent wail of despair and anguish reaching out from her heart to find her beloved. She missed him. She needed him. A sound from behind caught her undivided attention, but she did not turn around.

"Don't touch me," she growled.

He hesitated; she could hear the rustle of his clothes behind her, could almost feel his presence. Very slowly she looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror of the viewport. He seemed like a ghost, a reflection, no more, but she knew all too well that the threat he posed was very real. 

"Why did you do this to me?" she asked at last, her voice breaking. "First you take my husband from me, then my daughter." She suppressed a tiny sob of fear and grief. "Will you take my son, too?"

"Padmé."

Just that single word, only her name, but filled with such beauty and tenderness that she had to close her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to overcome her resolve. She was trembling, her thoughts spinning in a chaotic maelstream of memories. Memories of Korriban. His long hair brushed over her cheek when he leaned toward her, and his hand reached out to cover her outstretched palm resting against the viewport. Gently, he let his fingers slip inbetween hers, and, even more carefully, guided her hand to turn her head around and face him. Feeling his skin against her cheek, Padmé felt her shivers subside.

"Will you forgive me?" he asked, his voice a whispered plea that touched her heart easily. 

She opened her eyes then once more, caught up in the tender mood of the moment, and before she knew what she was doing her lips were touching his, a soft kiss, innocent, and yet so dangerous. However brief, to her it seemed to last for a moment of eternity. But then reality caught up to her again, and in a white-hot explosion of shock she jerked her head back, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I am sorry," she began, confused, but his smile blew her stammered words away. 

"I told you it was nothing," he said, amused, and turned around to leave. 

"Wait!" Padmé jumped up from her seat, a hand smoothing her dress unconsciously, the other stretched out toward him in an imploring gesture. "Where are you going?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he gave her a distant look. "We all have our battles to fight in this war, little queen. Some of us fight together, others on their own, and my fight is an altogether different one." Suddenly his expression softened once more. "You are a great woman, Padmé Naberrie. A noble soul. Don't ever forget that." 

With a nod, as if to emphasize his words, he started for the door again. It slid close behind him noiselessly, leaving her all alone with her thoughts and hopes and dreams. And her fears.

Anakin was missing.

Hugging herself tightly, Padmé closed her eyes in anguish. She had so feared this encounter. From the very day Kell had vanished from Coruscant, she had lived in dread, knowing full well that she could not resist him, could not deny her feelings. She had wanted him to die on Korriban, but killing him was harder than holding on to a bolt of lightning. _It was nothing._ Of course it was nothing to him! 

It was not that she did not love her husband any longer, not at all. The hardships they had endured to find one another again had only served to deepen the bond that connected them, had strengthened their caring and affection for one another. Anakin was her true love, despite everything he had done to her, her children and friends. She loved him more than life itself, now more than ever before. But he was gone now, and she was dying with worry over his fate. 

So she had tried to blame it all on Kell, only to find once again that his insight made him immune against any accusation. All he had wanted to do was to help, if for no other reason than to fulfill his own goals and dreams. Padmé shuddered slightly and turned toward the couch to seat herself. Hunched over, she found that she was trembling. She had tried to hate him, had tried so hard, but the time they had spent together – hours that had hurt her far more than the years she had spent in seclusion – had shown her the truth about herself. And like a child trying to ease the hurt inflicted upon her by an unforgiving parent, she had sought to love her tormenter, to ease her pain, to justify her anguish. 

She had run away from her duties. 

The past year had made her forget those dark times. Her recent missions to Ryloth and Nal Hutta had worked wonders for her confidence, and only now did she begin to suspect that Anakin had sent her away deliberately, to achieve exactly that. A smile crept upon her lips at that revelation.

"Mother?"

Looking up, she nodded at Leia standing in the doorway. The princess was pale, undoubtedly the aftereffects of what she had just done, but she was tough, as she was proving right now.

"Are you all right?" she continued softly.

"I am fine, Leia," Padmé answered quietly and rose. "Just a bit worried for your father."

Her daughter nodded in understanding. "Han will be leaving within the hour. I wanted to see him off."

"Of course. How is the battle proceeding?"

"I suppose we are winning."

"Which leads to the question whether_ you_ are feeling all right."

Leia smiled. "I feel turned inside out." The smile faded. "I do not like what I did. But I would hate to think what would have happened if I had done nothing. Mother?" she asked, when Padmé paled all of a sudden.

"I – I – think I have just understood what he was telling me."

"Who?"

"We have to return to Coruscant and get into contact with Karrde."

****

The funeral service had been grand, but it had only served to emphasize the hollowness she could feel in her heart. She missed Abla fiercely, his warmth, his smiles, his love. No one could replace the friend he had been to her, no one could come close to the bond of trust she had shared with him. Roganda was trying to be a friend, true, but she was being eaten by her own grief. And Sarreti. Sarreti had wordlessly taken over her everyday business in addition to his own duties, and was handling her schedule in such a fashion that almost no one was granted an audience. It did not matter, she had thought in the beginning, but in his eyes she could see that it did matter indeed.

They were seated in her office, a sprawling, generously decorated room, but Yana did not have the mind to concentrate on what the counselor was trying to tell her.

"... grave news indeed," he was just saying.

"What?" Turning startled blue eyes on him the Empress had to focus hard on bringing her mind into something resembling order. 

But, luckily, Franzis Sarreti was a patient man. "Your Highness, I was pointing out that Captain Ardos' report is grave news."

She frowned at him. "Isn't he with the Grand Admiral's forces?"

"He left with Lord Skywalker, yes. Apparently they have experienced some losses."

"I thought the fleet was to maintain radio silence?" she asked, suddenly fully alert.

"That is the grave news," he told her with a smile. "I had the defenses around Byss reinforced immediately." 

"Excellent work," she answered with a weary smile. "As always." 

When the door opened she turned her head to frown at the tall, red-robed guard who stuck his head in. 

"Yes?" she asked a bit testily, angry at the interruption. 

There had been no more meetings scheduled for today. But then Hah Kima of Anobis brushed past the guard, a tight expression marring his bearded features. Yana rose from her seat abruptly, truly furious now. 

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, making her voice hard and cold. The moff had returned to Anobis days ago, and his presence here, now, was surprising indeed.

At her side Franzis Sarreti had not moved from his seat, but she could see his left arm hang loosely over the edge of his chair, and she thought she could make out a blaster in his hand, shielded from prying eyes. Her gaze flicked back to the moff, who had reached the middle of the room by now, followed by three more Royal Guardsmen. Without warning Sarreti exploded into action. He jumped up from his seat, right hand gripping the chair and hurling it at the guard standing to the left, and at the same time his left hand whipped around, opening fire instantly. 

"Your Majesty!" he yelled over the din. "Get out!"

Following his order blindly Yana turned around and started running for the door at the back of the room, but then something hit her shoulder and a searing pain dropped her to her knees. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she shook them away to gaze at her left sleeve, that was already drenched with blood. Her blood. Next to her a large round bug of sorts crawled hurriedly across the carpet, and she instinctively slapped her hand down hard on the thing. It was hard as rock. In disbelief, she stared as the insect continued unpertubed. Suddenly she was hauled upright, and only then did she realize that she could no longer hear Sarreti's blaster. One of the Royal Guardsmen locked her arms behind her back in a tight grip and wrestled her into an upright position. Yana valiantly suppressed another scream, and instead composed her face into a mask of pure wrath. 

"Traitor," she hissed at Hah Kima, who was still standing in the middle of the room. 

Next to him the two remaining guards were struggling to keep Franzis Sarreti under control. His left arm seemed to be broken, and he was bleeding in numerous places. But he was also an Imperial trained assassin. He would never give up easily. Especially not if the Empress' life was in danger. 

"I fear you are mistaken," the moff answered calmly, never averting his gaze from Yana's face.

One of the guards let out a loud grunt when the counselor's right boot connected with his shin. A hidden blade had ripped the armored calf open and Sarreti twisted in the two men's grasp with a powerful move, that severed the lower half of the guardsman's leg completely. Again the armored soldier grunted, but this time it sounded more like words, an alien tongue. Yana stared at the thing, as it was deftly keeping its balance on just one leg.

"Silence him, will you," Hah Kima told the two red-robed creatures casually. 

The uninjured one released the agent and took a step back, to the Empress' utter surprise, but he was merely giving the other more room to operate. When Sarreti tried to jerk free the 

remaining guard waited for him to rise to his feet, before he smacked a fist into the agent's stomach and the counselor doubled over with an agonised hiss. Only then did Yana notice the three sharp claws potruding from the alien's knuckles. Sarreti sank to his knees slowly, his right hand covering his middle in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The moff of Anobis gave a satisfied nod.

"You are hereby seized as property of the honorable priestess Alyn Cha," he told the two of them coldly. 

"Yuuzhan Vong," Franzis Sarreti snarled angrily. "You idiot." He raised his head to meet the traitorous moff's blue eyes. "Why did you do this?"

"On behalf of your master, Lieutenant Sarreti, who was always a step ahead of you. No offense, Your Majesty," he explained almost pleasantly to Yana, who stood dumb-founded, "but this is not the legacy your father wished you to continue in his name."

Yana paled considerably, realizing just what her father, in his deluded state of mad power, had chosen to be the fate of the galaxy. If he could not rule it then no one would be his heir, no one who did not share his views. He had betrayed them all. And he had used his worst enemy and former master as a willing tool to bring this catastrophe about. If Roj Kell had known ... She tried to regain her composure once more, but when the guarsdmen hovering next to Sarreti began stripping out of their armor she almost fainted at the sight of their horribly mutilated faces. 

"You will pay," she whispered, her voice choked with fury and the bitterness of betrayal. "I won't let you get away with this." And in the deepest depth of her heart she knew that this vow she would never break, even if it meant her death.

"That's what you call the scenic route?" Luke shouted at Chi'in, who was leading the small procession. 

The Noghri, completely immersed in finding his way through the dust storm, did not answer right away. It was difficult to remember the route, difficult to navigate the rough terrain, and he felt that he was not yet sufficiently recovered from his ordeal on Kynda'bey. He stopped and turned to face the young Jedi earnestly.

"It is that," he explained, "You'll see. It is not that much further, I believe."

"You believe?" Nuron, who came up to join the two males, asked quietly. 

Chi'in could see sympathy in her golden eyes, but he also saw a maturity that was astounding. She had grown a little bit more over the past weeks, just as he had hoped she would. Luke had also gained a bit more wisdom, a bit more understanding for the real world. 

He gestured to his right casually. "Just listen, and tell me what you hear."

Nuron frowned, her skin creasing around the black horns adorning her forehead. "It sounds louder than the storm. Like running water."

"Very good. It is a river, one of three, which can lead us to our destination."

"Then why aren't we following the river?" Luke asked, confused.

The Noghri nodded pensively. "I reasoned the same, the first time I was here on Laa'kuan. But water means life, Luke. Life means prey, and prey means predators. The predators here are not to be trifled with."

"If they are anything like the Mahsenda I can deal with them," the young Jedi told him confidently. 

Chi'in smiled. "No matter what you believe you can handle, my friend, we will stay on this route. As long as I can hear the water we will be all right. Only if we get so close as to see the vegetation that grows at the side of the river will we be in trouble."

Luke shrugged. "You're the boss, Chi'in."

"Indeed."

Nolyane, confused by the unexpected stop, bustled up to the group and started jabbering at Luke. By now the Jedi had learned to interpret the gist of her tirades, and had learned to deal with them. He gave the Star Keeper a bright smile and a nod, then gestured ahead. His left hand imitated waves and claws. Then he pointed at Chi'in, who drew himself up to his slim height. Nolyane nodded at him, as one professional to the other. Turning around, the Noghri took up the lead again. 

To his own surprise they reached the ledge he had been looking for much sooner than he had anticipated. The storm died down gradually, as evening fell, and in the warm light of dusk they reached the edge of the gorge Chi'in remembered from his first visit to the Abernake's homeworld. The continent had been ripped open by some continental drift or other millennia ago, and the gorge went all the way to the ocean, he knew. Flanking the huge canyon were flat plains, dotted with boulders and covered in dust. Three rivers cut through that sad wasteland, and each vaulted the gorge in a majestic waterfall, so that the three merged at the bottom of the canyon into one giant water basin. 

"This is incredible!" Luke exclaimed, his eyes wide in awe as he stared at the spectacle spread out before him. The river they had been following fell away into the canyon half a mile to their left, and directly opposite the other two broke over the cliff face. The waterfalls merged in one flirring cloud of white droplets that reflected the evening light magnificently. 

Nolyane echoed the Jedi's sentiments with a honking cry, and Chi'in turned around alongside his companions to see the Star People drop to their knees reverentially. Looking at one another sheepishly Luke and Nuron seemed uncertain of what to do, but in the Noghri's mind there was not a single doubt. Joining the Star People in their silent prayer he closed his eyes and reached out to the planet, seeking the calm center of Laa'kuan. What he found was something altogether different.

Eyes flying open wide he stumbled to his feet. "Quick now!" he yelled. "We have to get down there right now!"

"What is it?" Nuron asked suspiciously, while Luke set to rousing the Star People. 

"The predators fear the valley for some reason. But they hunt at night, and there's a pack already on our trail."

"A pack?" 

"Yes. About a hundred make up a pack. Come on. If they catch us out here we are lost."

Luke had assumed the rearguard position, and as he hurried after the fleeing group he tried to expand his senses and pick up on the predatory presences Chi'in had claimed were following. He found them very soon, and was astounded at the single-mindedness with which the pack moved toward them. They were in no way even remotedly close to the Mahsenda. Any attempt on his part to discourage them from hunting them further would result in his having to use coercion to change those simple minds. So he quickened his pace instead, and felt his heart leap up to his throat when the ground seemed to disappear beneath his feet. Jumping after the warrior before him, the young Jedi caught his breath dizzily. They were running down a narrow pathway, hopping over potruding rocks and increasingly many roots. The deeper they went down into the canyon, the more plants seemed to appear. But the pace Chi'in had set was too fast, too dangerous. This way they would have to run all the way down. 

When they had reached the bottom of the canyon it was almost completely dark, and Luke gave a soft groan of hurt and exhaustion. His head hurt like mad from the effort of keeping it focused over so long a period of time, and he could hear more moans and sounds of discomfort from his companions. Only Chi'in seemed to be unpertubed. Which seemed unfair. But Luke had long come to take the Noghri's prowess and stamina for granted. 

"They didn't follow us," Luke panted, as Chi'in sidled up to him noiselessly.

"Of course not. They fear the guardians of this valley," the short warrior explained calmly.

"Guardians?"

"Yes. The three of us must keep watch tonight. And we should move further away from the lake."

Wait!" Luke hissed under his breath, as Chi'in turned away again. "_What guardians_?"

The Noghri shrugged. "We have no way of evading them safe for climbing back up again. We shall see whether they accept our presence or not."

What he had meant by that Luke realized only when the guardians themselves appeared a few hours later. The camp had gone quiet, and the three companions had spread out at the edges of the encampment in a star formation. Luke could see neither Nuron nor Chi'in, but he held loose contact with them mentally. He never felt the guardians approach. They faded from the darkness like ghosts, indistinct shadows that caught the sparse light of the second moon, Melyash, in fluorescent stripes alongside their massive heads. They were mammals, as far as Luke could tell, and they stood over seven feet tall. Three of them stalked toward him on powerful paws, and he almost flinched when Chi'in sent a wordless warning over the bond they had established. 

One of the guardians lowered its head toward Luke, and huge eyes regarded him curiously. Not daring to move, Luke kept very still, and let the being's hot breath wash over his face patiently. It stank of rotten vegetation, and the young Jedi's shoulders sagged in relief at the revelation that these guardians were herbivores. A pleasant hoot broke the tense silence, and then Nolyane appeared next to him. The Star Keeper gave the guardian a respectful bow and it responded with a soft snort. Then she began talking quietly, reverentially, her head still bowed. For some reason the guardian creature kept looking at Luke, until the Jedi dropped his eyes, too. Listening to Nolyane's gentle speech, he felt his rapidly beating heart calm down somewhat, and his mind focus again. As the Star Keeper went on, Luke thought he could almost understand what she was saying, as if the guardian functioned as translator, somehow. It _did_ translate for him, he realized all of a sudden.

When Nolyane finished at last, Luke felt his face flushed with excitement. But he kept still, waiting. The Star Keeper turned to face him, her expression seemingly earnest. It was hard to tell, in the darkness of Laa'kuan's night. 

[We must follow them to the sanctuary], she explained. [They will lead the way].

Luke nodded mutely and went to alert his companions. Together they rejoined Nolyane and the three guardians. Apparently the rest of the Star People had woken on their own, and the camp was gradually coming alive again. And then yellow-golden, molten stone started raining from the sky.

"Yuuzhan Vong!" Nuron yelled. "They have found us!"

The leader of the guardians rose on its hindlegs and roared an angry challenge at the passing starfighters. Then it dropped back again and whirled around. It let out a bellow to signal for the others to follow and then they were running again. Luke risked a glance overhead and felt his mind freeze, his brain pricked by tiny, icy needles. High above the black sky was filled with fire. Red and green laser beams cut through the night, exchanging fire with the Yuuzhan Vong ships. 

Ech'an'dana and the Shooting Star had arrived at last. 

The Star Destroyer Freedom had been joined by General Oethal's flagship, the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Regulator, and six more heavy cruisers. But with the worldship gone, the battle for Bilbringi had turned into a mop-up session of the smaller enemy cruisers and star fighters. Granted, those were still difficult enough to deal with, but Tomas Piett felt confident that they could handle this threat eventually. Therefore he had left the command of the battle to Captain Illichiyame and the General, while he concerned himself with soothing Mon Mothma and her staff. 

It seemed almost macaber to sit here, in the lower bridge's conference room, a live feed open to both Bilbringi and Coruscant, while the battle was still raging outside. Mon Mothma, dressed in regal white, was looking at him with concern plain in her eyes. She did not show any other emotion, but to Tomas Piett her inquietude was obvious. The princess, on the other hand, seemed utterly calm, despite her lapse into unconciousness only a few hours ago. Han Solo and Andarack had left already, destined for Nirauan, and the admiral had wished them good luck on their endeavor. He fervently hoped that they would bring back good news eventually.

"The situation is under control, Madam President," Tomas told Mon Mothma placidly, but she gave him an ironic smile.

"Under control? Let me be frank, Admiral. I did no want the Confederate Zone to come into being quite so soon. It creates more turmoil, and the stars know we have enough chaos to deal with as it is."

"I am quiet confident that the 'chaos' you speak of, will be resolved in the near future," he retorted coolly.

"Is that so. Yet the princess tells me that Nirauan has fallen to the enemy, that Lord Skywalker is stranded on a hostile planet."

"That has never been a problem for him so far," Leia herself injected, her tone sounding slightly amused.

But Mon Motham ignored her. Her dark eyes were still fixed on Tomas Piett. "Since the minister has posed an official request for military assistance to General Oethal, I am not at all sure whether the assumption that this included the official recognition of the Confederate Zone is legal at all."

"With all respect, Madam," he answered smoothly, "these negotioations were supposed to settle the conditions for the founding of the Confederate Zone. Minister Organa had to be aware of the fact that internally we were already decided. There was no doubt in the general's mind that a request on her part would include a recognition of the Confederate Zone."

"Assumptions, Admiral, no more."

"Is that was freedom and independence mean to you, then?" Tomas Piett asked quietly, and he heard a barely audible gasp transmitted over the live feed from Bilbringi. 

Lips compressed into a tight line, the President of the New Republic turned to address the princess. "Leia, please tell me again what happened."

"Of course." The princess gazed at Tomas Piett pensively. "The planet fell under attack from a hostile fleet –"

"Information received from Raisa Tobyn, the bodyguard of the admiral, assigned to him by your father."

"Yes," Leia answered slowly, and he could see her mind ticking away behind that pretty forehead of hers. Tomas decided to intervene.

"Again, please excuse my impertinence, but I accepted Raisa's protection voluntarily. And I would not stand for any accusations toward her on your part."

"Is that so?"

"Besides, the fleet _was_ hostile."

"But Leia could not know that."

"Should she have waited, then, until they made their intent clearer?" he asked, barely able to conceal the outrage he felt. 

Mon Mothma gave him a look that could have turned water to ice. "Admiral Piett, as far as I know you only gave the general the order to alert his troops once the princess had made her request. That was a very dangerous gamble on your part. Very dangerous, if the fleet had truly been hostile."

He shrugged. "Sometimes the hard way is the only one left."

"So you admit that you intentionally goaded the minister into making that request?"

"The princess can make her own decision, Madam," Tomas replied coldly. 

"Very true." Turning toward Leia again, Mon Mothma gave the younger woman a stern glance. "Do you want to comment?"

"I am not on trial, I believe," the princess said warmly, and a smile appeared on her lips. "We should be grateful that we do have such strong and cunning allies that have blunted the invasion and seemingly turned it back."

"It was you who destroyed the worldship!" Mon Mothma exclaimed in a rare show of temper.

"And Lord Kell who guided my mind. Do you perhaps want to give _him_ credit?" Leia asked sweetly.

"Certainly not." Mon Mothma heaved a tiny sigh. "Very well. Since I seem to have lost this battle, perhaps I should congratulate you instead on your success, Admiral. The New Republic is indebted to you." Tomas raised his eyebrows expectantly. "And indebted to the Confederate Zone," the president added at last. 

"Thank you for your kind words, Madam, we are, of course, honored to have been of assistance. Negotiations will become much easier now, I believe."

Mon Mothma frowned at that. "I believe the negotiations will have to be postponed. I want Leia back on Coruscant, along with Senior Analyst Padmé Naberrie. I will need them here with me, once news of this – event – becomes public."

"As you wish, Madam President," Tomas answered, not bothering to hide the smug smile that crept onto his lips unbidden. It was not that he disliked the woman, he only disliked her trying to interfere. "Rest assured that the Confederate Zone will do its best to protect its borders and those of its neighbors."

"Thank you, Admiral. I hope to see you again soon."

Tomas let the smile widen into a grin, and cherished the look on her face at that unusual sight. "I would be honored."

Panting, Luke scrampled up the steep climb that led up the rock potruding from the labyrinthine maze they had entered in a headlong rush to escape the enemy fire. The Yuuzhan Vong had landed undetected, days ago, Luke estimated, and followed them here. The dust storms had shielded them so far from the warriors' eyes, but here, in the valley, the fugitives were easy to find. Too easy. 

Behind him, Nuron was helping Nolyane up the crude stairs that had been hewed into the stone. Chi'in was still down in the labyrinth itself, assisting the Star People in holding off the Yuuzhan Vong warriors that had followed them into the maze. The guardians had faded away into the night once the small group had reached this sanctuary, and Luke could not feel angry at them for leaving the fight to others. 

"There are too many!" Nuron yelled from behind him, but he did not answer. He knew that there were too many to defeat, and he knew that Chi'in had said the labyrinth might be a weapon of sorts. He had to find the controls for this weapon, no matter what. With a last lurch he drew himself up on the flat top of the spire. 

[Please], Nolyane wheezed as she drew level with him. [The gods will help us, if you speak the rites. They are angry now, but I feel that they have not abandoned us yet.]

Luke kept silent. Straightening carefully he rubbed his aching thighs furiously. From below the sounds of battle rose indistinctly. "Chi'in," he whispered, squinting into the darkness worriedly. 

"He can take care of himself," Nuron told him calmly, joining his side. 

"We just rescued him from those monsters and I'm not going to let him die now," he stated determinedly. 

She gave him a long look, her golden eyes reflecting what little light there was. Then she went forward to hug him, and pressed a kiss on his lips, full of desperate longing. "I know you can do it," she murmured into his ear. "I trust you, Luke, you know that, don't you? I know you will save us."

Gently disengaging from her embrace, Luke took a step back and looked around curiously. The flat top of the spire was ringed with stone columns, six in total, that ended jaggedly at about a height of two meters. He moved toward the edge of the small plateau cautiously and risked a glance down. "They will not be able to hold them back much longer," he reported wearily. "I cannot see Chi'in."

"I told you not to worry about him. Please?" 

He turned his head to regard her, saw the hope in her stance, the pleading, and for a moment he was taken aback by what he could sense from her: fear. Naked fear. She was truly afraid to die this night. Nuron was never afraid. Angry, yes, desperate, perhaps. But never afraid. It shocked him to find her so frightened now, and he immediately took a step toward her, his hands extended in the beginning of a comforting embrace. But then her stance shifted noticably, and he understood that she could not cope with his caring right then. She was a warrior, after all. And Luke remembered her vow back on Almashin. That she would be his protector, if he was her guardian. 

Suddenly she rushed past him, her lips parted slightly as she dropped to her knees at the ledge. "Look!" Joining her, the young Jedi frowned. The labyrinth was dotted with glowing stones that spiralled out from the spire, across the entire maze. "Oh, Luke," she breathed, "this is amazing."

His brows rose in surprise when he understood what she meant. The patterns were familiar, the constellations of the glowing stones unique. "The galaxy," he whispered, dumb-founded. "This is the galaxy! And we are at the center of it!"

"My stars," Nuron sighed. "This is so beautiful ..."

"Come!" Hauling her to her feet, Luke felt his mind sparkle like a firework of activity. "This must be the key! Do you remember the ceiling of the grotto back on Kynda'bey? There were stones just like these! I know this is it!"

Nuron was beaming at him. "Then you know how it works?"

He gave her a careful nod. "I think I have an idea how. Let me try, okay?"

She grabbed his shoulders hard and drew him close. "There is no try, Luke," she told him, each word like a weight that settled heavily on his very soul. "We only have this one chance."

"Force," he groaned in response, "I never thought I would learn that lesson like this."

"It is the only way," Nuron explained, suddenly calm again. "Luke, you can do it. You are a Skywalker. Please. For us. We will hold them off, but hurry!" Letting go of him again, she darted back to the stairs, to keep watch. 

The young Jedi closed his eyes, and his lips compressed into a thin line as he focused his mind inward. Then, expanding his perception, he let his thoughts connect him to the maze, to each single stone. Each single world. A soft moan escaped his mouth as his mind rebelled against the magnitude of the task ahead. But he kept going. Gathering more strength, he penetrated the maze itself and traveled on, toward Melyash, where he found an echo of the 

whirlwind of power he felt amassed here, on Laa'kuan. Prayer and Answer. A way to achieve calm, balance. Luke pushed his mental barriers out further, travelling across the distance that separated him from Kyna'bey. The yammosk was a vague shadow at the back of his awareness, but it could not stop him now. He felt the Mahsenda join in his efforts, felt them support him, and a smile spread on his lips. 

Suddenly he found himself stretched to his limits, his mind forming a triangle focusing on the empty space that sat right in the middle between Laa'kuan, Melyash and Kynda'bey. It seemed as if he had stepped _behind_ the glowing wall of the Force, as if he had reached a state of non-being, of living death. He could see the Force, like a golden web, that connected everything. Everything except for himself. He stood outside that web, and carefully began weaving single strands of golden light into a tighter, more powerful unit. A small voice kept insisting that he had no clue what he was doing, but to Luke it felt right, and so he kept going. When he was finished, he gave the sphere he had created a small nudge. And then the world around him exploded.

Chi'in felt the surge of power that had been amassing in the planet core rush toward the surface like an avalanche. A silent scream was wrought from his very being when it passed through him, and a blinding white light appeared in the sky high above. It seemed to revolve, somehow, then slanted sideways and opened into infinity. 

"No!" he shouted, horrified, as the giant black hole started sucking the ships of the two fleets battling away over Laa'kuan into oblivion. "No!"

Beneath his feet the ground was shaking like an angry beast, and then the aftermath of the deaths of thousands beat down on the maze like a hammerblow, swatting the Noghri to the ground with a casual ease that took his breath away. All around, Yuuzhan Vong warriors were sprawled across the stone corridors, some moving feebly, others lying still. Star People were scattered among them, and soft moans rose into the night, that was suddenly much darker than before. 

"Force, what has he done?" the Noghri groaned as he struggled to rise. His body was aching all over, and his mind felt like a tight knot of pain. 

"Chi'in!" a voice yelled hoarsely.

His head jerked around, searching, but he could barely see. "Nuron?"

In a rush of gravel and dust she joined him, her face blood-smeared, and her golden eyes haunted. "What happened?" she breathed, sounding dazed.

"Where is Luke?"

"There was an explosion. The spire toppled over. And then ... " she trailed off, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh, stars! What did he do?" The Zabrak fell to her knees, hands stretched out toward the black sky helplessly. "What did he do?" Slowly, she turned her eyes on Chi'in. "I cannot feel him any longer."

With a weary nod the Noghri bent down to help her rise again. "We have to go," he told her gently, but he had to keep his own despair and fear walled into a tight box of unbreakable resolve. Something had changed. "They are coming back," he urged the young Zabrak warrior quietly. "They will catch us if we do not flee."

"But the others ..."

"Later, Nuron. Later. For now we have to get away."

Holding on to her hand tightly, Chi'in guided her through the maze of dead or injured warriors that dotted the entire labyrinth. He could sense their pain, their determination and anger, and he shuddered at the feel of the Yuuzhan Vong soldiers. _Sometimes_, he thought_, it is better_ _not to know the enemy's mind._ Almost fearfully he risked a glance at the place where the spire had risen into the sky above the maze. But the top of it had been broken, and probably lay smashed in the center of the sanctuary. There was no sign of Luke. Not anywhere.

TBC


	28. Chapter 27 - Sacrifice

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Chapter 27 – Sacrifice

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At first Roganda had believed the horrible creatures to be part of the neverending nightmare she had found herself in ever since she had learned of Irek's death. Therefore she had not even bothered to scream or fight when they had dragged her from her quarters, through the clamor that filled the citadel's hallways with the shrill sounds of violence and battle. Soldiers were engaging more of the creatures, fighting and dying determinedly, and only then did she realise that this nightmare was all too real. She tried to break from the creatures' grasp, but they did not even budge. The fortress shook when something hit, but Roganda was too confused to fully gather what was going on. And so, hanging helplessly between her captors, she found herself being dragged deeper into the bowels of the complex. 

The sterile corridors were familiar, and brought back more bad memories. But no matter how hesitant her steps, no matter how reluctant, she was being forced onward relentlessly. By the time they had reached the experimental facilities she was trembling all over. This was where she had conceived Irek. Closing her eyes, she tried to fight the images that rose before her inner eye, but it was a futile struggle, as futile as her struggle against the two aliens holding her tight. 

Suddenly she was shoved forward and landed on the floor hard. When she tried to rise again one of the creatures standing at her side put his foot down on the small of her back. Taking the hint, she lay very still, awaiting the things to come. But she felt awful inside, her mind in turmoil and her emotions a dark storm of remembrance and loss.

"Is this the one?" a female voice asked dispassionately.

"Yes, Priestess. Her name is Roganda Ismaren," a man answered. She did not recognize the voice.

"Roganda," the woman intoned softly. "Your offspring was shaped after your master's design?" The words sounded strange, and Roganda thought that the woman was uncomfortable with speaking them. 

"Yes," she whispered, and the truth of that statement filled her with a profound sadness that overwhelmed even the grief for her son. She remembered the Dark Lord's words, but they had no meaning now. Irek had never belonged to her, not entirely.

"Get up." 

The pressure lifted from her back and she carefully rose again, but was afraid to meet the woman's gaze. Instead she took in the damaged facilities, wondering who had unleashed his or her anger on these machines. 

The man spoke up once more. "I am sure your shapers can reconstruct the facilities –"

"And sully their hands on these unholy devices?" the woman snarled. "No, my friend. Roganda can assist the shapers in understanding this process. You say you do not know who destroyed them? A kindred spirit, perhaps?" she added acidly.

"I do not know, Priestess," the man answered slowly. "But perhaps ... The counselor should know. He knows everything that goes on on this world."

"Good. I will question him. Perhaps then we will find out how Prefect Os Dan's worldship was destroyed at the world Bilbringi."

"With all respect, Priestess, it must have been a Jedi," the man reasoned.

"So you tell me. These Jedi seem to hamper the success of the war master's strategy."

"But Nirauan is secured, Priestess, is it not?"

"Not yet," the woman said icily. "The goddess has clouded the intentions of the warriors the infidels have left behind there. And the infidels' resistance also seems to be stronger than you anticipated it, Hah Kima."

"Surely, Priestess, your warriors will prevail."

"The Yuuzhan Vong will triumph, of course," the priestess purred softly. "It must be that way. It has always been that way. But I believe the goddess requires a sacrifice, before she will lend me her wisdom again."

"Welcome to the Dark Side, Skywalker."

Luke turned his head wearily toward the speaker, but he had recognized the voice and tone immediately, and was therefore not surprised to find Roj Kell standing next to him. The ancient Sith wore his long white hair bound back in a ponytail and his forearms were adorned with the familiar armor, this time made of dark brown leather. Apart from that his attire was very simple. Brown pants and boots, nothing else. His only weapon seemed to be a quarterstaff that he held in his left hand.

Luke noted a few fresh scars that decorated the older man's bare torso, and for the first time he realized that Kell was really very old. Usually he exuded such power that his age became irrelevant, but seeing him now, without his usual long black robes, Luke found that he was facing a human being, not a fearsome legend from ancient times. 

"Do you have any idea what it cost me to direct those energies here, at Laa'kuan?" the Sith continued, seemingly unpertubed by the young man's scrutiny. 

Meeting Kell's gaze again, Luke remembered all too vividly what had happened a few hours ago. But there was nothing inside him that was touched by that memory. Dispassionately he marvelled at his own lack of emotions. He should feel something: fury, despair, fear, whatever. But there was nothing, just a vast emptiness. He turned to look back down upon the maze, where the morning light started painting the rock walls in an orange hue. The stars had faded hours ago already. It was a sad sight. But better than what was looming overhead, like a malevolent black eye of doom.

When the top of the spire had broken under the assault of whatever power he had unleashed, he had managed to get down unscathed, and had decided to flee toward the craggy cliffs, that rose not far from the labyrinth itself. He had not seen anyone else, but he had felt confident that Nuron and Chi'in could look out for themselves. But now, perched on the ledge of the cliff that rose above the maze, far from safe and not caring at all, the young Jedi could see that his foolishness had made the Star People prisoners. Far below, he could see Nolyane and four of her companions, watched over by three Yuuzhan Vong warriors. He wondered very hard if they were expecting the same fate that had befallen Chi'in, when he had been the Yuuzhan Vong's captive on Kynda'bey. 

"You destroyed an allied fleet," Kell continued, seemingly oblivious of Luke's current mood. "What is more, you have managed to totally wreck my plan."

Luke barked a mirthless laugh. "Knowing you, you will have backed it up with another scheme."

Pale green eyes studied him for quite some time Then: "It would seem that you have inherited some brains after all, boy."

"So the labyrinth really is a weapon?" Luke asked after a few moments of hesitation.

"A weapon? No. This is a sacred place, a sanctuary."

"But – "

"The weapon was you. You directed those energies."

The young Jedi squinted at the older man quizzically. "What would you have done?"

"The yammosk."

"You would have used all this power merely to defeat the yammosk? But that would have been totally inefficient! With that kind of power you could have – "

"Destroyed their fleet?" Kell finished for him. "Of course. A very easy solution, a warrior's choice. But I am no warrior. I don't go and do other people's work for them, and I don't go and annihilate a people simply because I think them a perversion."

"They are trying to do the same to us," Luke argued quietly, remembering Chi'in report on the Yuuzhan Vong on Kynda'bey. 

Roj Kell gave him a tight smile. "You believe that a valid argument? Boy, had your father stuck to so simple a rule he would never have managed to defeat his master."

"I don't understand you," Luke confessed. "I thought you were a survivor."

The old man averted his eyes to study the labyrinth at their feet. When he answered, his tone was distant, cold, harkening back to times long past. "My clan was slaughtered over three thousand years ago. Men, women and children. I only survived because I was not home back then. I did not swear revenge. I continued my journey, confident that with me they would live on somehow." He paused, and a snarl appeared on his features, a predator backed into a corner. "Then I met Exar Kun, who became my master. He was a Dark Jedi, who called himself Sith. He was a bitter man, and cruel, very cruel. You know that he continued Naga Sadow's experiments on the Massassi of Yavin 4, don't you?" Luke gave a mute nod. "I had learned all I believed I would need when I decided to abandon my master. I did not share his view on life." The ancient Sith's pale eyes pierced into the Jedi's heart mercilessly. "I would never ever change the nature of a being. And I could never accept something unnatural as real."

"Yet you seek to change people in other ways – "

"Guilty as charged, Skywalker, yes," Kell replied with a small smile. "But ultimately what I do is show them the truth of what they are. My master showed me that I was not like him, that I still had my ideals. But he also taught me not to accept everything as inevitable. So I decided to avenge my clan. I killed everyone who had settled on my people's territory. I spared no one. That was a grave mistake. I never did anything like that again. Until now." His voice dropped lower. "You always carry the consequences for your actions, Skywalker. Always. And I have set the price for the power you have so carelessly wasted months ago. Had I used it on the Yuuzhan Vong fleet, more ships would have come, and I would have been powerless. As I am now."

"Powerless!" Luke exclaimed. "You aren't powerless! You are a Sith, you could do something! We could –"

"_We_?" Kell snarled viciously. "I believe _you_, boy, have done quite enough already." 

Hidden among the foliage of the low bushes that covered the forest floor of the valley, Chi'in felt strangely content. It reminded him of home, of Honoghr, before the planet had been so brutally ravaged in what would later be called the Clone Wars. But that contentment also had another source. The fact that he could sense the Yuuzhan Vong now, that he could follow their every move, had reversed the roles of predator and prey once more. Chi'in clan Rim'kai had been regarded as one of the best hunters among a people of hunters. The most cunning, most honorable warrior. 

Signaling with his left hand he sent Nuron stalking off to circle the three Yuuzhan Vong clustered together. She was proving to become a skilled hunter too, and he could sense that she enjoyed this hunt in particular. They had not found many of the Star People, only two warriors were with them, and they seemed almost helpless without Nolyane to guide them. Right now they were huddled next to Chi'in, and the Noghri wished dearly that they would not behave like frightened children. 

Suddenly loud voices rose from the clearing, and the Noghri carefully raised himself on tiptoe to see what was going on. The three Yuuzhan Vong warriors had seemingly noticed something suspicious, and Chi'in could only guess that they had spotted Nuron. Cursing under his breath, something he did not do very often at all, he started for the three aliens, but a moment later the clearing turned into a display of laser cross-fire that cut the warriors down mercilessly. Dumb-founded, the short Sith Lord stalked into the clearing and frowned into the direction he had sent Nuron. 

The Zabrak appeared among the foliage, wearing a faint smile on her lips. "They are good at hiding," she said, half-amused, half-surprised. 

"What are you –" Stopping himself short, the Noghri stared hard at the man who entered the clearing alongside Nuron. "Commander, what a pleasant surprise." Al'than'erudo gave him a careful nod, and Chi'in noticed the way he was looking at him. "Where did you come from?"

"Syndic Ech'an'dana sent my crew ahead to get you. The Mahsenda is a stealth ship. Those Yuuzhan Vong never noticed us."

"I am happy that your crew survived," Chi'in replied soothingly, "and I share the loss of your fleet."

The Chiss' glowing eyes narrowed a fraction. "Perhaps you would be willing to explain what occurred up there, Master Chi'in. You are the only one who can possibly be responsible for this disaster."

"Is that so?" ChI'in let his left hand fall down level with his belt, where he wore another set of knives. "What if I told you that Master Skywalker was the one who destroyed the enemy fleet?"

"And our fleet!" Al'than'erudo snapped. "I should have known that he is not to be trusted! He is a Sith, like you!"

"True. I am a Sith. Luke Skywalker was a fool to tamper with things he did not know. But that does not make him a pawn of darkness."

The commander stared at him for a long time. Then he gestured with his left hand, waving more Chiss soldiers forward. In the end twenty of the blue-skinned humanoids had joined them. "Until you have proven to me that this was indeed an accident, and not vile intent, Master Chi'in, you will be my prisoner. You and Nuron Sarin."

Chi'in gave the Zabrak female a questioning glance. The two of them were powerful enough to be able to free themselves at any time, but the Noghri wanted to avoid violence now. They had a different enemy to fight. He saw Nuron give him a small nod. Turning toward Al'than'erudo again, he raised his chin to look up into the other's glowing eyes. 

"We will accompany you. Under one condition. You will help us defeat the Yuuzhan Vong warriors in the labyrinth. And you will help us free the Star People."

"The Star People are our enemies," Al'than'eruodo snorted, and his eyes flickered toward the two lanky warriors standing a bit apart. They were studying the Chiss as suspiciously as they were being watched themselves. "Why should we aid them?"

Chi'in smiled slowly. "Tell me, Commander, what were you planning to do, now that your fleet has been annihilated? Take us to Almashin or Csilla to be questioned? Waste precious time? You have a duty, Commander, to defend your people. And you have a duty to defend the Star People."

"What duty? You are making no sense, Master Chi'in."

When Chi'in moved Al'than'erudo was too surprised to react. Pulling hard at the man's collar, the Noghri brought the commander's eyes level with his. "You are gifted," he snarled, annoyed. "And with that gift comes a duty. I will not leave you to waste your powers, and I will not let you discredit mine, or Master Skywalker's. You have exactly two choices. Either you agree to be reasonable or else you will submit to me. And do not believe that your comrades could protect you. I have dealt with far worse than you."

Over the Chiss' shoulder he could see Nuron stare at him, her golden eyes wide in astonishment. _We are all changing_, Chi'in sighed inwardly. _I am getting impatient_. No, he realized, it was not impatience that had sparked his reaction, it had been the commander's refusal to see sense. Al'than'erudo claimed to be a warrior, but so far he had been jealous and counterproductive. If he wanted to become a true leader he would have to learn to follow reason first. 

"What are they going to do?" Luke whispered as night fell, and the labyrinth lit up with starlight. The Yuuzhan Vong had made the maze their headquarters. A sensible choice. But it felt wrong, and Luke thought the planet itself wanted to repell those creatures.

Roj Kell, seated bside him, was a study of icy calm. "It depends on their priorities," he said slowly. "Perhaps they will make them slaves, perhaps they will sacrifice them."

"Sacrifice?"

"Of course. The sacrifice of captured enemies is highly regarded in many cultures." 

Luke suppressed adding 'primitive'. Instead he asked: "What would you do in their place?"

"I don't take prisoners."

Again, Luke swallowed a comment. He had the feeling that something was happening out here that he could not quite grasp. The way the older man was watching the Yuuzhan Vong, with that calculating glance that left no doubt what he thought of them, set Luke on edge. He felt as if he were being dragged into something that was no business of his. None at all. But something else, something that he might understand, was still preying on his mind. 

"Can you tell me what I did wrong?" His voice was soft, timid, and at first he did not dare look at his companion. When the other did not answer for some time, though, he risked a cautious glance. By the absent-minded expression on Kell's features he was not at all sure if he had heard his question at all. But just as he was about to repeat it, Kell extended a hand toward the labyrinth. 

"The Force, as you call it, binds all things, alive and dead. It is everything, every reality we know. You have been taught to see beyond the obvious, to feel more than is apparent at a single touch, to communicate with the Force. But for that you pay. Master Yoda, for one, decided to step back, to relinquish his power and instead teach you to carry on the burden of responsibility. Your father chose to take matters into his own hands, and he paid a horrible price, as you know. It is a matter of balance, of keeping score."

Luke frowned. "I am not sure I understand."

"A matter of belief, Skywalker. I knew a man once, a Jedi Master, who refused an offer of power to retain greatness. Greatness is in your ideals, and subsequently in your actions. It does not matter if those are grand deeds or small accomplishments. What matters, is what's inside your head." 

Shivering, Luke remembered what he had caused and imagined himself becoming mired in darkness, like his father. It was an unsettling thought. "So I did not have the right motives?"

"You have no respect, Skywalker," Kell whispered softly. "Look at the stars down there. They are precious, every one of them. And they will lend power to you, if you treat them with respect, and return their gift to them. Of course, they will also bend to your will if you force it, but you have seen the results of such coercion for yourself. Come." He rose from his seat and started down the slope noiselessly. 

Following, Luke frowned. The feeling that Kell had not told him everything was nagging at the back of his mind, and the disturbing thing was, that he did not want to know. It was safer to remain ignorant for now. "What are you planning to do?" he whispered ahead.

"Go hunting."

Straightening from the corpse of a Yuuzhan Vong warrior, Chi'in raised his head wearily to count the cost. Seven Yuuzhan Vong and ten Chiss dead. Even though the blue-skinned humanoids were very adept warriors, they still had not yet adapted to the brutality of their enemies' approach to battle. The Yuuzhan Vong were no cautious fighters, contrary to the Chiss, and unfortunately their armor was so tough that they could reach the Chiss before their armor yielded to the soldiers' blasters. Surprisingly, the two Star People warriors were holding their own despite their more primitive weapons. They were incredibly quick and agile. 

"Polay," Chi'in called the taller of the pair, and waved him over. The lanky alien hurried toward him, seemingly loath to leave his companion alone with the surviving Chiss. Once the warrior had reached him, Chi'in was already turning away. "Polay, the labyrinth," the Noghri made a complicated sign that he knew the other understood. "I want you to go there and look." More signs translated the request. Polay nodded, then honked a question, nodding toward Lusha, the younger warrior. "Yes, take him with you. But be careful." 

The two Star People left together, and as expected Al'than'erudo and Nuron came over to join the Noghri. "They are excellent scouts," Chi'in commented, for the commander's benefit.

"Yes," Al'than'erudo growled, not bothering to hide his contempt for the Star People. 

"You should treat them better, my friend. They have saved your life, after all."

Indeed, Polay and Lusha had been the ones who had recognized the trap the scout team under Al'than'erudo's command had almost walked into. Chi'in and Nuron had joined the ensuing fray too late to prevent the deaths of half if the Chiss troops, unfortunately. 

"Perhaps I should," the commander admitted resignedly. 

Ignoring him, Nuron pushed the taller alien aside to plant herself directly in front of the much shorter Sith. "Where did you send them? The labyrinth?" Chi'in nodded, and she made as if to follow the Star People. He caught her sleeve in his right hand and met her angry gaze. 

"You are not going."

"Why? Luke is out there, and I am sworn to protect him," she reasoned.

"Protect him, yes, endanger him, no. What if he is a prisoner? Your trying to rescue him could draw unwanted attention on him."

"You doubt I'd succeed?"

"Yes."

Her golden eyes lit up with indignation. "Chi'in," she began, reasonably. "I am not a child."

"You are in love. That is almost the same. We will all return to the camp right now and get an update from the Mahsenda's crew. Maybe tonight we will be able to do more."

She pressed her lips together grimly, but did not protest further. Still, he could see hurt pride in the way she held herself when she walked back to join the Chiss. Al'than'erudo gave Chi'in a pensive glance before he also turned away without another word. But Chi'in had his reasons for being careful. They knew now, that Luke was alive. Nuron had felt his presence, and so had he. But contrary to the young Zabrak he had also sensed a subtle change in the Force here at Laa'kuan. Something had arrived, or someone. It was stalking the edges of the Force patiently, as if it were waiting for something to happen. Whenever Chi'in tried to gather more information about the presence it melted away into nothingness. He suspected that he knew who it was, and that would mean that any move they made might be the wrong one. 

Two hours later Polay and Lusha returned, and their report confirmed his suspicions. 

"Kell," Nuron growled, once Chi'in had finished translating the two warriors' words. "If he is here ..."

"We must move today," the Noghri told his small team. "Whatever he is planning, it must be soon."

"Why? What makes you think so?"

Chi'in met the Zabrak's golden eyes calmly. "Nuron, you know him as well as I do. He never shows himself so openly if he does not have his victim exactly where he wants it. And if his chosen victim is Luke, we will have to move fast, don't you agree?" As expected, she agreed quite vehemently.

Luke followed Kell as noiselessly as he could. In a way this reminded him of his training sessions with Master Yoda on Dagobah, and he found that he could fall back on the Jedi Master's lessons on stealth and endurance easily. Therefore he kept close behind his companion, so that they did not leave clearly distinguishable tracks in the dust. Kell moved with the lithe grace of a predator, gliding across the rough terrain like a ghost. The labyrinth was just ahead, and the young Jedi took a deep, calming breath as they entered the maze. Exactly at that moment the older man began talking quietly. 

"When I said I would never annihilate a people just because I despise their belief I lied to you," he said quietly, his enchanting voice reaching Luke's ear easily. 

"Why?" the Jedi called back in a low tone, confused by the subject the other had chosen.

"Duty imposes bonds on us, on all of us, and my duties always required me to break all rules and bonds. The only directive I had was knowledge." Stopping abruptly, Kell held up a hand to signal for Luke to remain behind. He closed his eyes briefly, as if searching, then nodded to himself. "So," he continued, "knowledge prevented me from destroying quite a number of people I found offensive, and that I would never have let survive otherwise. My belief, Skywalker, is not so different from the Yuuzhan Vong's."

Luke inhaled sharply at that new information, doubts and suspicion crashing into his mind with brute force. All of a sudden he remembered the stories he had heard from his father and Master Yoda, that trusting that ancient Sith almost always brought trouble, that he never said what he truly meant. He let his right hand drop down toward his lightsaber, feeling very uneasy.

"Why are you telling me that?" he asked cautiously, his blue eyes narrowed somewhat.

"There is no 'why', boy. If you do not know now then you will remain ignorant until you choose to see the truth."

"And what truth would that be?"

"Did you know that I killed my own son to be free of obligations? That his very existence repulsed me, because he reminded me of what I could have been? Do not be mistaken, though. I cannot regret that choice, even though I might regret the death of innocents." 

"You are sick," Luke growled. He batted down hard on the black beast of anger that threatened to claw free of his soul to destroy this personification of all he knew to be evil right then and there. How could anyone be so cold?

Roj Kell gave him a mocking smile. "Your lessons have only just begun, Skywalker," he told him softly. "And this one is the hardest. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your ideals to achieve what you perceive to be a higher goal. But sooner or later you must return to them or renounce them forever. If you choose to return you will pay for your betrayal. It is that easy."

"So, which one of us is paying right now?" Luke asked between gritted teeth. "You or me?"

"You are paying for foolishness, Skywalker, for ignorance. I am paying for knowledge."

"What's the difference?"

"A lifetime of understanding," Kell whispered and started walking again. "Have you never thought that you would someday be held responsible for the deaths of the million people that died aboard the Death Star you destroyed? Or did you truly believe that you were innocent, simply because you sacrificed them for a higher goal? What are _your_ ideals, Skywalker?"

Luke felt caught in a whirlwind of doubt. "I want to preserve life. But –" he added hurriedly at seeing that smile form on the ancient Sith's lips once more, "I also know that this sometimes requires a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice, yes. Greatness is not defined by sacrifices, Skywalker, which is why the Yuuzhan Vong have no greatness. Their sacrifices are hollow, routine prayers, if you will. Theirs is a belief that is dying out. " He looked back at Luke pointedly. "No sacrifice can save them from heresy."

"And heresy will destroy their ideals," Luke added pensively.

Nodding sharply, Roj Kell turned away again, his soft voice just barely audible as he breathed: "Did you know that the Star People believe the guardian beasts of Laa'kuan to be the reborn dead of the Abernake?"

The young Jedi gave a shrug. "Are they?"

Kell threw him another mocking smile, and Luke could deduce from the mischievous gleam in his pale eyes that he had not gotten the joke at all. "What do _you_ believe?"

"Truthfully? I believe you're mad, but I suppose you already knew that."

Laughing out loud, the ancient Sith shook his head in amusement. "Mad? Perhaps. Now, when we go out there I want you to get to the prisoners. Think you can manage that?"

"Of course. Let's do it."

They reached the edge of the maze's core shortly thereafter, without ever coming across any guards. Luke was wondering about that, but when they carefully drew themselves up one of the rocky walls of the labyrinth, he could see that a meeting of some sort seemed to be occupying the Yuuzhan Vong's attention.

"Ah. Newcomers, I believe," Kell said with a nod toward a group of Yuuzhan Vong clustered together at the far end of the maze's core. 

The young Jedi noticed a familiar scarred face among the warriors. He nudged Kell slightly to draw the other's attention to that particular Yuuzhan Vong, but the old man was already looking in that direction. "I've seen that one on Kynda'bey," Luke whispered.

"Very good. Do you see the one with the red cloak and spikes?" Kell asked back quietly and carefully indicated a particularly ugly speciman. "That is their war master."

"Ah. So he's our target?"

Roj Kell gave him an appraising look. "Good boy. Indeed, that is our prey. Be quiet now, and listen." And indeed, just as Luke fell silent, the familiar warrior knelt before the war master and spoke. "His name is Fahl Dan," Kell began translating, "he is the most senior among the warriors here. The war master tells him that he is pleased, and that he has received news from their other commanders. Apparently they did not fare quite as well. The attack on Bilbringi was thwarted by a Jedi, the war master says, and the Jedi are the root of their problems in conquering Nirauan. He wants to know what has happened to the captured warrior on Kynda'bey."

"Chi'in," Luke breathed, astounded.

"Apparently. The yammosk is recovering and is ordering the troops to regroup. It is confused as to what has happened to the fleet that engaged the infidels here. The war master asks what has happened." Roj Kell gave Luke a small smile. "Do you need a translation for that?"

The young Jedi shook his head. "What do you think happened at Bilbringi?"

"I believe your sister took matters into her own hands. She is a powerful Jedi, almost as powerful as her father."

Luke stared, dumb-founded. "You were there," he stated at last. But Kell didn't answer to that.

"Let's start some mayhem," he said instead and gazed at Luke for a moment. "And remember what I told you."

Chi'in and Nuron crawled toward the edge of the ledge carefully, with Polay and Lusha close behind. The four of them had an excellent view down into the labyrinth and the core of the maze itself. Suddenly Nuron pointed toward two shadows that moved closer toward the Yuuzhan Vong assembled at the center of the giant structure.

"There they are!" she hissed. 

Chi'in nodded slowly. "They seem to have the same intentions we have. Al'than'erudo is in position?"

"Yes. He and the Mahsenda's crew should be ready to go."

"Excellent," the Noghri replied tersely. "Then I suggest we – "

A shout from below interrupted him, and suddenly all four warriors' attention was focused again on the labyrinth. One of the shadows had vaulted the last wall separating them from the maze's core, and had been spotted immediately by the alien soldiers crowding the small space. The other shadow was darting along the outer wall, out of sight, toward the entrance to the labyrinth's center. The attack was clearly meant as diversion, and Chi'in found himself following the path of the second shadow more closely. It was Luke, he knew, and he could sense the young man's nervousness and excitement clearly, as he stalked toward where two Yuuzhan Vong were standing guard over the remaining Star People. 

"My stars," he heard Nuron sigh, and reluctantly averted his gaze from the Jedi toward the Sith, who hit the soldiers advancing on him very hard. 

Roj Kell was using his quarterstaff like a spear, and somehow he always found the weak points in the armor of the warriors opposing him. He would first deliver a dazing blow, then move in for the kill. When two warriors charged at him from opposite sides he brought the staff up in the very last moment to make them crash headlong into one another. One jab with the blunt end of the staff broke one of the warrior's neck, before the weapon reversed and slapped the other across the face hard as he tried to rise. With a kick to the warrior's chest Kell sent that one down again and finished him off by crushing the armor above his heart and piercing through the alien's flesh. 

Chi'in felt his breath catch when he realized that that move had trapped the quarterstaff for precious seconds that Kell would need to free the weapon again. "Look out!" he breathed, astounded at himself for cheering the ancient Sith on, but his call went, of course, unheard. 

Instead of wasting time on a futile endeavor, Kell abandoned the quarterstaff and turned to face the next row of enemies bare-handed. One armored arm deflected the amphistaff of the first to engage him, and to Chi'in's shock the old man's hand whipped around to take hold of the sharp thing and tear it from its master's grasp.

"Why isn't he using the Force?" Nuron whispered, sounding anguished, and Chi'in risked a glance over at her to see her enthralled by the battle, her full lips parted slightly and her golden eyes wide with excitement. For a moment Chi'in was unsure whether she meant the Sith or her lover. 

Looking back down toward the labyrinth, Chi'in saw Kell shear the quarterstaff free from the fallen warrior's body it had become embedded in, and discard the amphistaff for his own trusted weapon. Indeed, why wasn't he using the Force? Kell might not be very powerful in that regard, but it would give him an edge over his attackers, that much was certain. Why didn't he use that edge? Parrying another amphistaff, the old man ducked what looked to be a thud-bug, but it came back at him again, and diverted much needed attention from the Yuuzhan Vong closing in on him. 

Chi'in recognised their leader instantly. "Fahl Dan."

"What?" Nuron hissed back.

"That is Fahl Dan down there. The one who captured me." He met Nuron's nonplussed gaze, and saw revelation dawn in her eyes.

"Oh," was all she said. 

The Zabrak knew Kell's fighting skills as well as Chi'in did, and if someone managed to defeat Chi'in, then Kell would stand no chance against that warrior. As if eager to prove the two of them right, Fahl Dan caught the thud-bug in one hand and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it straight at the old man's face. Kell, who had been following the bug's trajectory, was caught completely by surprise, having anticipated the bug's attack to come from a totally different direction. 

When he leaned back, out of the way of the fast-approaching living projectile, Fahl Dan was already lunging at him. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior, although not as tall as Kell, was much heavier set, and when he reached the white-haired Sith the impact drove both to the ground. Chi'in gritted his teeth, when the Yuuzhan Vong's amphistaff arched toward the man trapped underneath his weight, but a shouted command from one of the Yuuzhan Vong not involved in the fight, this one wearing what looked like a red cloak, prevented the warrior from executing his quarry on the spot. He rose nonchalantly, apparently leaving his subordinates to secure the defeated Sith.

"He must have known he would lose!" Nuron exclaimed, outraged. "He never loses without a reason!"

It was a measure of her feeling helpless that she was resorting to such childish accusations now, Chi'in thought, but secretly he was also wondering what the old man had planned. 

Nolyane uttered a low, plaintive hooting noise at seeing Luke, when he dropped down beside her. He gave her a helpless smile and a shrug. "Hey there," he whispered. "Back together again, huh?" 

He had used the commotion created by the ancient Sith's attack to sneak up to the guards standing watch over the prisoners, but the fight had ended too soon for him to take out the two Yuuzhan Vong before anyone could aid them. Slightly out of breath he ducked his head, when one of the guards glanced back at the prisoners. When he saw that they had been joined by a stranger ...

"Who are you?" the war master snarled and gestured sharply at the warriors who were holding Kell down. 

Two of them hauled the old man upright. Luke heaved a sigh of relief when the guard turned back again to watch the proceedings. Apparently he had decided that a single man who sat placidly among the captives was no real threat. Not after the stunning performance Kell had just given. Luke's heart was still beating in his throat, and he was working hard on calming down again. It was not an easy task.

"I am the keeper of this sanctuary," Kell answered as the two warriors holding him pushed him to his knees in front of the war master.

"A priest?" the Yuuzhan Vong asked softly.

"Yes."

"Very good. And do you think your gods will aid you?"

"My gods?" Kell sneered. "My gods have defeated you already."

"Are they that powerful?"

"More poweful than you can know, little slave."

"We shall see about that. You have killed a number of my warriors. Impressive. Did your gods guide your hand, maybe?"

"Every breath I take is a gift from my gods and every move I make is a prayer that is sent to them. Every one of you I kill is a sacrifice I make."

"Sacrifice?" the war master repeated. "I had not expected to find someone who understands the true meaning of sacrifice among your feeble race."

Roj Kell lauged out loud. "You are so endearing in your innocent stupidity. Go on, sacrifice your gods, show me your heresy."

The war master ignored the ancient Sith Lord's challenge quite pointedly, but Luke could not suppress a stunned smile. It was amazing, how Kell never ever gave up. He hoped that he would someday be half as brave and true to his ideals. If he survived this at all. The war master pointed toward the shattered temple spire that had crashed into the giant labyrinth. 

"Let us see if you truly are that wise, priest! Let all see! Your gods will cower before us!"

The two warriors dragged their quarry over to the broken stones and Luke moved with the surge of the crowd as the captives were herded closer, so they could watch the proceedings better. His stomach was churning in dire anticipation, and he whished he could do something. But he also realized that alone he had next to no chance of defeating so many. Not if he wanted to avoid another disaster like the one that had claimed Ech'an'dana's fleet. When he concentrated again on the scene before him he saw that the two Yuuzhan Vong were holding the ancient Sith Lord tightly, with his back pushed against the stone wall. 

Kell watched calmly as the war master stepped toward him. With a flick of his hand the alien brought his amphistaff to quivering attention. Obeying an unspoken command, the snake-like creature stiffened its body, flattening it into a blade. Luke drew a sharp breath when the weapon slashed across Kell's abdomen, spilling blood and gore all over the dust-covered ground around. He could not sense the other man's pain, but his imagination conjured the most horrible torture up in his mind. A gasp ran through the captives at his back, and Nolyane sank to her knees beside him. The Star Keeper began whispering a quiet prayer for the Sith's spirit.

"Where are your gods now?" the war master asked triumphantly, and Luke jerked his head away when the alien's free hand moved into the gaping wound and started pulling at the insides of the old man's belly roughly. 

The noises were sickening, and all around the young Jedi the captives turned their eyes away or looked on in horror as the war master continued his gruesome business. His face paling, the young Jedi realized that his inaction had doomed the older man, that this was the lesson he had been talking about. It was too late to act now. Too late. Closing his eyes briefly, Luke tried to hold back the tears of failure. 

But when he had managed to gather enough courage he forced himself to look at Kell's face. It was an ashen gray. His pale green eyes, blood-shot now, were mere slits, and his jaw muscles were clenched tightly together as he continued matching the war master stare for stare. 

"You," he said at last between gritted teeth, his magical voice hoarse, and weaker than ever before, "are ignorant of their greatness. You do not realize that you already belong to them." He stopped, panting, and his eyes widened ever so briefly. 

"You have doomed yourselves by surrendering to their rule," the warrior-priest continued finally, and a smile appeared on his lips tentatively. "You fool," he whispered, so low Luke had to strain his ears to hear anything. "You do not understand at all. There is no difference, no distinction." 

Kell forced himself to lean closer toward the war master, and the alien bent toward the dying Sith, curious. "You are mine, little slave," Roj Kell hissed. "You cannot escape me, ever." 

"Your defiance is worthy of a true warrior, " the war master answered grimly. "The gods will be pleased with this sacrifice."

A gentle expression spread across the ancient Sith Lord's face, causing Luke to cringe inwardly. "They are pleased," Kell whispered. 

Suddenly he threw his head back, his shoulders heaving against the hard grip of the two warriors holding him. "Jen motha!" he bellowed. "Bow to your gods, or perish!" 

A loud rumble filled Luke's head and he realized that Kell was drawing power through the labyrinth's circles. The ground started shaking underneath their feet and the captives broke into panic. Around them, the glow-stones set into the labyrinth were blazing like miniature suns.

"Run, you idiots!" the ancient Sith screamed in pure anger, his voice sending ripples of terror through the crowd like a tidal wave. 

Nolyane clung to Luke desperately, hooting and honking in fear. "We have to go!" he shouted, pushing her toward the labyrinth's entrance. 

The earthquake continued, picking up more force with each passing moment. But the Yuuzhan Vong soldiers surrounding them seemed unpertubed, and mercilessly cut at the fleeing Star People. Dodging an amphistaff, Luke tried to keep track of the Star Keeper. In an instant he was out of the labyrinth, and black gloved hands reached for him and dragged him into a crevice that seemed to broaden into a small canyon. He stared into Nuron's golden eyes and saw sympathy and sorrow there. Falling into her embrace, he did not bother to hold back the tears.

"He is dead," he whispered.

The Zabrak nodded. "I know." Averting her troubled gaze, she led him up a steep climb. "Chi'in is waiting for us."

"I do not understand... How could he die now?" Luke continued under his breath. "I thought he'd last forever," he concluded with a bitter laugh.

"None of us is immortal," Nuron told him sternly. "Only the Force is eternal."

"We are the Force," he whispered. "All of us. In that we _are_ immortal."

Nuron gave him a sharp glance that told him all he had to know. She thought he had gone completely mad. Shaking her head at him, she grabbed his right sleeve and started climbing faster. "Come. I think Chi'in should see to you right _now_."

"No." He jerked free of her grasp deteminedly. "I have to go back. We can't leave Nolyane and the others to those monsters."

Nuron frowed, and the way her forehead furrowed around her black horns gave her a fierce expression, that was emphasized by the dangerous gleam in her golden eyes. She scanned their surroundings with a quick, measuring glance, then turned toward the distant mountain cliff to signal. There was no answer, but Luke could easily guess that Chi'in had received the message. To his utter surprise the Noghri appeared on the ledge just above them noiselessly and dropped down to land lithely on the bottom of the canyon. Two of the lanky Star People accompanied him.

"Luke wants to round up the remaining Star People," Nuron explained, while the young Jedi was still staring at the cliff, trying to understand who the Zabrak had given the signal to. 

"Agreed. But hurry. We will join you later." And with those words he darted back into the labyrinth, the two chestnut-furred warriors right on his heels.

"Nuron, what – "

"You'll see. For now, we have a job to do."

A thin veil still separated the two of them, and Belana was straining to cross that threshold, despite the ban he had put on her specter back on Byss. She knew he was still hanging on to life, or else the earthquake shaking the labyrinth would have died down much earlier. But then something changed. She could no longer feel Kell as the source of the giant fist that was shaking the planet mercilessly, holding it in a hard, unrelenting grip, It had eased away so gently that she had not even felt the power fade. Instead a filigrane net of golden tendrils permeated everything around her, reaching out to everything she could see, connecting everything, waiting. 

Eyes wide, the Jedi Master forced herself to look at the dying Sith Lord, who was swaying slightly in the aftermath of the enormous effort he had put into this diversion, an effort that went far beyond what she could see. He was the source of the light, that poured from his very being and joined the greater flow that grew in density even while she watched. Belana felt her soul fill with awe. He had told her of this, had tried to explain, but she had never truly understood. The gift, that he had accepted so long ago, was being returned, now that its mortal host had chosen to make the last sacrifice to ensure the future of his legacy. He had chosen death, instead of annihilating these creatures that he despised so much, to make peace with them his own way. To Belana's great horror she found that she had misjudged his motives completely, when he had left her back on Byss. 

But now she knew. Now she could see clearly.

All the threats, the hints at what his belief demanded of him, it all came into focus. The heart of darkness. He had kept it safe over the millennia, locked away behind walls of ice and dark cunning, so precious that it could never truly be revealed. She could feel his love then, that innocent, overwhelming caring that encompassed everything, everyone, that transcended every border and that made her tremble in helpless longing. A single tear slid down his cheek, but she knew he was not crying for himself. His pain was much more complex than the wound that was killing him. Sharing his anguish, she was mourning with him, and the veil was broken, as the tendrils of gold withdrew, out of her sight.

"Your gods are defeated," the war master announced haughtily. 

At a gesture of his the two warriors released their quarry, and Kell fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut all at once. He hit the ground face down, and the force of the impact made Belana wince in sympathy. She knelt down next to him hurriedly, and found his eyes barely open. His breathing was almost nonexistent, and she could sense that the loss of blood was shutting down his brain gradually. Only his iron will kept him conscious now, but she knew how hard it had to be for him to hold on. 

"Hush now," she whispered. "There is no need to fight any longer." 

Closing his eyes with a heart-rendering sigh, he signaled his acquiesance. A sudden movement above her caught Belana's attention then, and she gazed up abruptly, to see the war master looming over them, his amphistaff raised high, ready to strike. It came down with bone-shattering force and then darkness fell between them. 

"No!" 

With a wail of sudden loss Belana threw herself at the barrier, ignoring the stabs of billions of icy needles that seemed to pierce her heart. 

"No! Don't do this to me!" she screamed, and hot tears of impotent fury ran down her cheeks, as if trying to wash away her grief. "Come back! You promised ..." Her voice trailed off and she retreated again, defeated. "You promised to come back to me," she said accusingly, her voice breaking.

"Well? You know I _always_ keep my promises." 

The voice was achingly familiar, but in the tiniest nuances it also seemed different. The everpresent hints of impatience and thinly veiled anger had disappeared, leaving a glacial silver blade sheathed in a dark, earthy baritone. It cut through her soul mercilessly, but she accepted that wound gladly, and she also accepted the healing power of that enchanting melody, cherished the sound of it reverbrating in her very soul. 

"You are here," she sighed as she turned to face him.

"Of course I am. Did you expect someone else?" His teasing her sent her pain away on a gentle breeze of joy. 

Smiling, Belana propped her hands on her hips. "You look different," she observed. 

Indeed, his features seemed softer, younger, and his hair, pitch-black once more, was longer than she remembered. With wonder in her eyes she stepped up to him, her hands reaching out tentatively to reassure herself that he was really there. Gently, she touched her fingertips to his lips and began exploring his face with mounting pleasure. 

"You know," she breathed, when he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against his body tenderly, "I feared you would make your threat come true and go on a rampage while I was gone."

He leaned toward her with a smile and buried his face in her thick, dark hair as he whispered in her ear: "Who says I didn't?"

"You are unbelieveable," she sighed, exasperated. "Now tell me again that you love me."

"I love you."

"Good." Cuddling against his chest, Belana was smiling. It did not matter what he had done, all that mattered was that he was back with her at last. 

TBC


	29. Chapter 28 - Backlash

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Chapter 28 – Backlash

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"Where are they going?" Luke asked as he ran alongside Nuron toward the shouts of Yuuzhan Vong warriors hunting down the remaining Star People.

"Chi'in wants to take them by surprise," she explained and jumped from a ledge down into a group of alien warriors, her lightsaber already igniting. 

The first stroke beheaded one of the Yuuzhan Vong, the second, upward slash, cut another open. And then Luke was with her, and there was no more time to think. Falling into the Force, Luke let his body flow with the movements of his adversary, a stocky warrior, who tried to duck out of his blade's way, but the young Jedi reversed the arc of his lightsaber and instead of finishing the raking blow he had started, turned his attack into a stab, that pierced through the alien's armor easily. 

The Jedi vaulted over the warrior's falling body, dimly aware of the fact that he was not using his own directive of a purely defensive stance. Gritting his teeth, he remembered Roj Kell's words about the sacrifice of ideals. Fact was, that he could not remain passive in this battle, and not only because he had let Nuron draw him into this fight quite casually. He had simply been following her, not thinking ahead, never realising what she was planning to do. That was what he had to improve. His farsight. His lack of thereof had cost too many lives already.

Blocking an amphistaff, he felt something brush the side of his face. Thud bugs. Annoyed, he extended a hand toward the insect coming at him again, and squashed it in a Force-grip. All right. If he forfeited his ideals now, he would later pay for that transgression. But what would that price be? It helped to analyse this dilemma rationally, but Luke also felt that there was more he should know, before he made a decision.

Suddenly he found that there was no one left to oppose him. He shook himself out of his trance, only to find Nuron facing Fahl Dan. The Yuuzhan Vong was the only one left of his comrades. Luke remembered that the Zabrak had engaged the warrior already back on Kynda'bey, but obviously had not managed to defeat him. Moving toward her, he hefted his lightsaber in both hands, ready to interfere. But she called him back.

"This one's mine," she growled, without looking back at him.

With a nod she did not see he shut down his blade. Nolyane appeared with three of her companions. They joined Luke wordlessly to watch. 

Fahl Dan was regarding the Zabrak female curiously, as if evaluating her skills. Although Nuron was of slender built and half a head shorter, she was the one standing among the Yuuzhan Vong she had slain, and he was the only survivor among his own. Luke could feel grudging respect for Nuron in the alien warrior, and found that he shared it, only at a much more intense level. 

"I have met a warrior who came close to your battle skills," Fahl Dan began, his amphistaff hardened into a stave that he swung lightly in his right hand. "But I defeated him in the end."

"He was fighting alone against seven of you," Nuron replied coldly. "I would hardly call that an even fight."

"So you know him."

"He was my teacher."

"A very good teacher, then. He has much honor," he continued as he began circling her. She followed him elegantly, keeping him in her line of sight at all times

"More than you, that's for certain," she answered. 

"Did you know the priest?"

A visible shiver ran down Nuron's back and her golden eyes widened ever so slightly, undoubtedly in remembrance of the ancient Sith's violent death. When she spoke her voice was very low. 

"I knew him, yes," she whispered, her shoulders sagging.

She moved even before Luke could blink his eyes, and he had never even felt her intentions. Startled, he felt his jaw drop. But Fahl Dan had been as surprised as he himself was. Nuron's red blade had penetrated the tall warrior's armor in a single, powerful thrust, and stood out from his back. The Zabrak leaned very close to her quarry, and her face bore a cold, merciless expression, almost bland, but only almost, for her eyes were blazing with outrage. 

"He taught me never to play by someone else's rules," she added calmly, as if nothing had happened. "He also taught me to never ever waste a single moment of time. You pay for your foolish taunting, Fahl Dan." 

Withdrawing the blade, she took a step back as he fell to his knees and slumped forward, dead. Luke was shocked to see tears in the Zabrak's eyes. Rushing over to her, he hugged her tightly, and she leaned into his embrace gratefully.

"It's all right," he murmured in her ear. "It's okay." Very carefully he ran a hand through her short black curls. 

"How can it be all right?" she sobbed into his shoulder. "We are losing too many!"

He could only agree.

Chi'in, Polay and Lusha found the labyrinth deserted. No one remained in the maze, and the Noghri was slightly disappointed about that. He had hoped to trap the stragglers of the retreating Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps even the leader of the band himself. It was clear to him that Laa'kuan had no real importance for the invaders' overall strategy, all they had wanted here was to get rid of unwelcome intruders who might get the news about their war coordinator's lair back to the Chiss or New Republic troops. 

A hoot from the maze's core brought his attention back on his companions. Lusha was standing next to Roj Kell's battered body, that lay in a pool of blood and gore. Chi'in set his jaw grimly. Jen motha, Kell had called out. People of the dead, or dead people. It seemed significant that he had spoken in his native tongue, but Chi'in was not sure how. This entire set of events was part of a riddle, he knew, and he was certain that Kell had left clues and hints scattered all over the galaxy, but Laa'kuan was the key. That much was clear. If only they could find out how to turn it in the right direction.

Frowning, the Noghri walked over to join the warrior, and Polay followed him reluctantly. Lusha's blue eyes seemed troubled, and the Noghri could sense sorrow coming from both Star People. Yet he himself felt nothing. 

He knelt down beside the body and found that the Sith's neck had been smashed, almost severing the head. Blood had been splattered across Kell's face, and his complexion had turned a pale white, matching the color of his hair. Covered in dust, his bare torso seemed to have been wrapped in a golden-brown sheet, like a shroud. Chi'in lifted a hand tentatively, but then decided not to touch the other. They had never been friends, and somehow it felt wrong to violate his old nemesis' privacy now that he lay there helplessly. Dead. 

His gaze was drawn toward the shattered spire and he frowned ever so slightly. Nuron had said that viewed from above the labyrinth turned into a depiction of the galaxy. A grand design, that must have taken the Abernake years to achieve, decades perhaps. Somehow Chi'in began to doubt that it had been intended to become a weapon, despite what Luke had done, and despite the way Kell had used it to give the Star People a chance to escape. After all, he had only begun employing his power when he had been beyond help already. And Chi'in was fairly certain that the ancient Sith had had no love for the sort of destructive super weapons his last student had fancied. 

A place of prayer, of reverence, Nolyane had called it. 

He gazed around the maze's center, taking in every detail, and he thought that in the weathered rock walls circling the small arena he could make out ancient murals, inscriptions of encantations, an entire history. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he cocked his head to one side to squint at the scriptures that had been carved delicately into the stone, flowing with it. He could read the Sith words 'dedicated' and 'life' and 'darkness'. There was more, but time had made it impossible to identify the words. Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes to focus deeply into the labyrinth. 

Then Polay lay a hand on his shoulder gently, urging him to rise again. The Noghri complied quietly and turned away from Roj Kell's remains. His boot touched something half-buried in the dust and he bent down to pick up the ancient Sith's quarterstaff. For a moment Chi'in considered taking it with him, but rejected that idea immediately. He dropped the weapon again and turned around. With suspicion Chi'in noticed the expression that had been frozen on the ancient Sith's face. The way the shadows fell across Kell's features made him look as if he were smiling. It was that old mocking smile Chi'in knew so well, and it made him smile in return. 

The Yuuzhan Vong, it would seem, were in for a very nasty surprise.

They reached the second waterfall without any complications. Stumbling after Nuron, Luke had a hard time concentrating on his feet. His thoughts were preoccupying all of his attention. He was wondering how the Yuuzhan Vong knew so much. How had the war master known about the Jedi? If someone had betrayed the Chiss and the New Republic, who could that one be? Not Kell, that he was sure of. But who could have an interest in betraying them? Who?

"You!"

The angry snarl tore through his troubled musings, and Luke's head came up to face Commander Al'than'erudo. The Chiss' eyes were blazing with fury, and he could sense waves of hatred roll out from the man's very presence. It was a desperate hatred, and with all that had happened it was all too close to what Luke himself felt. 

"You," Al'than'erudo repeated as he stepped forward to face the shorter man down. "You are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of my people! You sacrificed them to get at the enemy fleet! You destroyed them!"

Luke swallowed hard, but remained silent, his mind devoid of anything. 

"Won't you answer?" the other hissed. "Won't you at least try to justify your deeds?"

"There is nothing to say," Luke managed at last.

"So you admit it!" Al'than'erudo roared, and his right arm drew back, ready to strike at the young Jedi. But then a black-gloved hand fell on the Chiss' elbow, stalling his movement. He turned his head to glare at Nuron, who returned his gaze dispassionately. 

"Any battle with that enemy would have seen you defeated," she told the other quietly. "And every commander sacrifices troops to get at the enemy. Almost every commander," she corrected herself. "But Luke did not do this out of malice. He wanted to help."

"Help!" The Chiss jerked his arm away, and his glowing red eyes bored into Luke coldly. "You will never have honor, Master Skywalker. You are a child playing with things it does not understand. You have no respect toward the lives of others. You are a murderer, whether you accept it or not. You will never be like your father, no matter how hard you try. Never."

Turning away, he stalked back toward the stealth cruiser that had settled down in the concealment of the water fall. Nolyane, who had been listening to everything said, followed him quietly. And then only Luke and Nuron were left.

"He is right," the young Jedi whispered, his voice breaking. "He is right. I had no clue, and my actions spelled disaster for Ech'an'dana and his fleet. My inaction has killed Roj Kell, and perhaps everyone else too. I am a failure."

Nuron said nothing. Looking over at her, Luke found her gazing at him, her cinnamon skin glowing in the pale light of the midday sun. She was so beautiful. She loved him, trusted him, and he had disappointed her on every level. She had told him that they were losing too many, but that was not true. _He_ was losing them. Luke broke eye-contact with her abruptly, and turned away. 

"He is right," he repeated, realizing the truth at last. 

"Luke."

Her voice was soft, but that softness could not disguise the strength that lay underneath. He stopped, but did not look back at her. Instead he waited for her condemnation in silence. The crunch of gravel underneath her boots told him that she was coming to join him. 

He wanted to run away.

But then she stood behind him, her presence a reassuring fire at his back. "Luke," she said anew. "You have made a mistake. You have accepted it. Now you must deal with this. We cannot take that responsibility from you."

So she too thought that he had failed. Hanging his head in quiet defeat, he nodded. 

Nuron patted his shoulder gently. "Come. Let's get aboard."

Voss Parck and his troops were the last to join with General Sa'lym'a and the Dark Lord. They had retreated into the labyrinthine maze of underground caves underneath the mountains, and Sa'lym'a had selected a particularly large cave to house their equipment. Now the Chiss was following Anakin, as he walked around to take stock of what weapons and supplies they had left. Apart from the flight of clawcraft, which was still in orbit and reporting on enemy activities, they had five heavy laser guns and a sufficient supply of ammunition for their blasters and rifles. Additionally quite a few mines and grenades were available.

Nodding to himself pensively, Anakin was spinning different possible approaches to defeating the Yuuzhan Vong here on Nirauan. When Admiral Parck hurried over to join both him and the general he gave the man a placid smile. 

"All present, Lord Skywalker." Parck announced wearily. 

"Excellent," he answered. "I suggest the three of us get our staff and discuss our next move."

"You have a plan?"

"Yes. First I want an update on your troops, their condition and morale."

"Of course," the admiral replied at once.

"General Sa'lym'a has already sent out scouts to keep track of the enemy, in addition to Deron's flight." He preceded the other commanders into a smaller cave that the general had declared their planning and conference room. "Take a seat."

Anakin waited until both the Chiss and Parck were seated, but remained standing himself. At once both commanders rose again, their eyes betraying nothing, even though he could sense their confusion. Good. Smiling at them, he mentally congratulated the Grand Admiral on such competent commanders. 

"Admiral Parck, you managed to save all the equipment you had?"

"Yes."

"Excellent." The Dark Lord let his gaze drift into the distance as he continued: "For our future operations the weapons we have will be useless. I intend to employ a much different technique than an all-out assault."

"Sir, they will expect us to use guerillia tactics and use the forests and hills for ambushes," Sa'lym'a suggested quietly. "Perhaps it would not be all that unreasonable to surprise them with open attacks."

"A valid point, General, and I do not doubt your troops' committment, but what we need are unorthodox tactics to confuse them."

"What do you suggest instead?" Voss Parck asked, a frown on his forehead.

Anakin let his smile widen into a boyish grin. "Assemble your men."

"And then?"

"Then I will teach them a song."

He laughed out loud at the look the two commanders gave one another. Unorthodox indeed. 

Still smiling to himself, he left Voss Parck and Sa'lym'a to preparing the soldiers for the upcoming event and left the small cave to wander toward the entrance to the mazelike system of catacombs and caves. A single guard stood watch over the ravine they had used to get their equipment underneath the mountains and he gave the Dark Lord a sharp nod, but said nothing. 

Anakin ventured into the open in silence, letting the cool night air caress his face as he walked further down the ravine and toward the valleys they had left behind on their retreat. Then, when he had found a place that suited him, he leaned his head back to gaze at the sky. Clouds were obscuring his vision, hiding the murderous enemy ships overhead, and he found his mood reflected up there. He felt a strange sadness deep in his soul, as if a distant cord had been strung and now reverbrated in his heart. He did not know what had caused this melancholy, but he knew that he could not let it nag at his resolve. 

The situation of the troops stranded on Nirauan seemed hopeless, yet Anakin had vowed not to give up for as long as there was one man alive. There was no defeat. Pressing his lips together thoughtfully, he remembered Sa'lym'a's suggestion. Of course that might be a way to confuse the enemy, but the Yuuzhan Vong would not yield even if the Chiss fought as fiercely and determined as only a defeated army could. No, they had to break them through cunning and subterfuge. They had to crush them with tricks and brute force, had to bring them to the very brink of despair and leave them there. 

Expose their gods for what they are, Roj Kell had told him, and Anakin was only beginning to understand the complexity of that task. It was something that went against all he valued. Over the past year he had sought to find inner balance once more, to come to terms with his past, but now it seemed as if he would have to forsake all that for good. Truth was his sole directive now. 

He heaved a quiet sigh and closed his eyes. There was no peace to be found in his future, he knew. No peace for him. His heart clenched in sorrow as he thought of his family, of Padmé, who had fought so hard to reclaim what they had lost, of her love, that always filled him with such happiness. Happiness. A smile spread on his lips when he realized that there was a way out of this misery. Just one, simple way. 

"Lord Skywalker," a voice said from behind him, and Anakin turned around, startled, to face Voss Parck.

"Yes?"

"The men are waiting for you."

Nodding, he threw a last glance back at the clouds. "Yes, thank you," he said. "I will be with you shortly."

The admiral left again, and the Dark Lord lingered for a while, his spirits heightened once more. There would be no defeat. Whirling away, he stalked back toward the caves. The guard he had met before gave a startled cough and took a step back, a move that surprised Anakin somewhat. But then, he could not see the golden light in his own eyes.

At first Voss Parck felt ridiculous, as they began learning the first verse of the song. The words were in some alien tongue, and complicated to pronounce. But the Dark Lord was wearing such a serious expression on his face, and such fervent concentration filled his eyes, that the laughters and chuckles among the troops died down gradually. Into that silence the Dark Lord spoke the verse again, adding rythm and melody to the words, and the admiral's eyes nearly bulged at the simple beauty of the chant. Blinking back tears, he risked a short glance at General Sa'lym'a, who was standing beside him. The usually so stone-faced Chiss seemed hard-pressed to keep his composure. 

"This song," Skywalker said softly, once the last note had died away, "is over five thousand years old. It is a prayer, a dedication to life itself. Many of you may be asking themselves what this has got to do with battle." He smiled. "Well, the answer is simple: nothing."

The laughters that arose then were pleasant, a sign of relief. No soldier wanted to believe that his commander had suddenly gone insane. And Voss Parck had to admit to himself that a great weight had been taken from his heart at the Dark Lord's casually humorous comment. 

"But," he continued sharply, "that is not the matter here. The enemy has already had a taste of our skills and determination. They know what to expect. What I am planning to do is to use that knowledge against them. This includes for you to learn this song." A hand was raised timidly three rows back. "Yes?"

"Sir, how could a song benefit us against the enemy?"

"Let me ask a question in return. Does any one of you know the benefits of battle chants?"

"To distinguish your own troops from the enemy!" someone shouted. 

"Very good. Of course that would imply that they would not be otherwise distinguishable."

Voss Parck could physically feel the pensive silence that answer left behind. And he could almost sense the sudden attentiveness that permeated the entire cave. The admiral could understand the soldieres very well. The Dark Lord was teaching them tactics, making them feel special.

"Any more suggestions?"

"Perhaps to learn the current position of one's troops?" By the sound of it it was the same man who had first answered. 

"A good idea, but that would tell the enemy the same as it does tell your commander."

"Then perhaps to confuse the enemy as to one's numbers?"

"Excellent," Skywalker exclaimed. "What is your name, soldier?"

"Okal Nawa."

"Step forward, please." A young Chiss hesitantly made his way up front to join the Dark Lord, who gave him an encouraging smile. Once Nawa had reached him Skywalker turned back to face the crowd. "The most essential function of a battle chant," he explained, "is unity. The single voice of an army signals the enemy that the soldiers are dedicated and prepared to fight to the death." 

Holding up a hand the Dark Lord silenced the rising murmurs among the troopers. "The Yuuzhan Vong respect a dedicated enemy. They believe him a worthy adversary. They would never shy away from fighting a worthy enemy. Not engaging him would be very dishonorable indeed." He lowered his hand again, and directed a stern glance seemingly at each single one of them. "The Yuuzhan Vong will not waste their time on hunting us down if we do not present a worthy challenge. The more we can lure on our trail, the more we can slaughter. The more we kill here, the less will be there to attack Csilla or Almashin. And now," he concluded, "let us repeat that song."

Afterwards, as the soldiers filed past him, Voss Parck noticed the fervent gleam in their eyes, the excitement in their features. They were ready to die, and they were committed to battle. 

"A strong army," General Sa'lym'a commented, when the Dark Lord joined them at last. "You have inspired them."

"Do we move tomorrow?" Voss Parck asked quietly, and earned himself a careful nod from Skywalker. 

"Indeed. Tomorrow. You must deploy your troops within the next three hours."

"Three hours?" the general repeated. "Why so long?"

"First we need to split them into three armies. One under my command, to bait the enemy. One under your command, General, to confuse the enemy. And you, Admiral, will lead the force that will crush them." 

The last was delivered with such icy precision that Voss Parck almost flinched. "And second?"

"Second, we will determine the battle-ground. It must have forests and hills, and ravines to spare us the preparation of moats and ditches. General Sa'lym'a, do you have a suggestion?"

"Yes, sir. North of here. We can reach that site before morning."

"Excellent. The third will be to prepare the single armies."

"Prepare? Prepare how?" Sa'lym'a inquired, curious.

"I want all three to deploy different tactics," Skywalker explained. "Come. The three of us need a bit of quiet to make our own preparations. Sergeant!" he called out, and the human officer who had quite accidentially moved into the position of the Dark Lord's aide, appeared at his side. "You will recall the fighters. I want Naas Deron and Puket with me."

"Yes, sir." Whirling away, the sergeant went about his task. 

Voss Parck studied the Dark Lord intently. "Why now? They seem to perform excellently up there."

"We will not have use of the clawcraft tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will need everyone down on the ground." A cold smile crept onto his lips, startling the admiral. "Tomorrow, my friends, the Sith will rise again."

It was bitter cold in the small hours of the next day, and Anakin suppressed a shiver, appearing completely at ease, even though he wore next to nothing. Apart from the black pants he had only allowed himself to carry a cloak, but that was for different reasons than shielding himself against the cold. He wanted the enemy to know his troops' leader at first glance. Next to him, Naas Deron made an almost savage impression, with his skin covered in ritualistic scripture that had been hurriedly painted on a few hours ago. His dark hair was in disarray, and he carried a quarterstaff in his left hand that he had been uncomfortable with when first presented with. It reminded him too much of Roj Kell, he had said. Puket, her lekkus raised ever so slightly in apprehension, was the only one who wore her usual garb. Her pale blue skin echoed the hue of the morning sky that was hung with dark clouds. 

The three of them stood in a small circle, with Chiss soldiers spreading out from that center ten deep. All of them bore crossbows, and Anakin had made certain that they all could handle them. The enemy scouts would report the details to their commander, who had two choices. For one he could believe that the performance this assignment was going to give was indeed a sign for their dedication and bravery. He would then order his troops to destroy that army. Second, he could anticipate this little show to be bait, and would send his scouts out to find any hidden ambushes. Which was where General Sa'lym'a's troops would come in. 

The Chiss general had deployed his soldiers in five groups in a loose formation around Anakin and his contingent, making good use of what cover they could find in the small forest and the ravine that cut through the small valley they had selected to become their battle-ground. Once the enemy scouts had made certain that there was indeed an ambush planned, they would gleefully report to their commander, who would congratulate himself on being favored by the gods. He would send his own elite troops to crack the ambush and send a minor force against the Dark Lord. And then Voss Parck would strike. Provided they got that far, Parck's troops, the best among the soldiers this force had to offer, would herd the enemy toward the crossbowmen Anakin would lead back here to retreat.

In essence, they were offering the enemy an easy victory, and if their commander was anxious to move on – which Anakin was certain he was – he would take that invitation gladly. 

Closing his eyes, he let his mind expand beyond the edges of the circle his contingent was forming. He could sense the soldiers lying in ambush, could sense the troops waiting to come down on the surprised enemy. But he wandered further, gathering more information as he went. It was hard to keep track of everything, but he let himself flow with the Force, following strands of information instinctively. There they were. Seven scouts. They were cautious, knowing that the enemy had had time to prepare. And very soon conditions would turn even worse for them. As if called by that thought the clouds overhead started pouring hard rain down on them. By the look of it the downpour would last throughout most of the day. Good. The change in the weather, that had announced itself the night before, had prompted him to keep the clawcraft on the ground, and he could guess that the Yuuzhan Vong would have similar problems with their own starfighters. 

"Ready?" he called out over the roar of the storm, and a chorus of voices answered. "All right! Follow me!"

He turned around abruptly and started marching off, toward the distant plains. This was another message. They were leaving the protection of the mountains, and the enemy had to see that too. Behind him the troopers started chanting the song he had taught them the night before, a low hum that tentatively broke through the rain. The words were burning in his mind, clear and strong, and he could feel the melody reach out for him, filling him with pride and defiance.

Anakin smiled as the voices behind him rose louder and louder, until they were all singing at the top of their lungs. Only the three Sith kept silent. The Dark Lord felt his mind drawn like a bow-string when he sensed movement ahead. Almost instantly shouts and cries erupted at the flanks of his troops, where Sa'lym'a and his contingent were undoubtedly engaging the Yuuzhan Vong elite forces. He had the utmost confident in the Chiss commander's quick wits. He would manage just fine. Raising a hand, Anakin signaled for his troops to break into a confused rabble. The soldiers darted this way and that, seemingly undecided and surrpised. A moment later the vanguard of the Yuuzhan Vong sent to meet them appeared on the rise before them.

"Now!" Anakin hissed, and immediately Naas Deron darted ahead, and stabbed the quarterstaff into the earth with a wed thud. Retreating again slowly, the Sith warrior kept his eyes fixed straight ahead. The quivering staff served as marker for Voss Parck's troops, but of course the Yuuzhan Vong could not know that. They would take it as provocation. With wild cries the armored aliens rushed down the hillside, a dark tide of savage force. 

"Draw back!" the Dark Lord yelled, and his soldiers fled obediently, back toward the valley they had started from.

The last to retreat he, Puket and Naas Deron had the brunt of the attack to deal with, but they held their own, slowing the advancing soldiers for a moment. Three red blades reaped their harvest among the enemy troops, but the sheer numbers forced the trio to retreat gradually. By now Anakin was cursing his decision to wear the cloak. Totally drenched by the pouring rain, it got stuck against his wet skin, hampering his movements. But he could not simply discard it. That would be regarded as dishonorable by the Yuuzhan Vong, and they still had to retain an air of honor, until they would show their true faces. The Dark Lord blocked the upward slash of an amphistaff and avoided another slash elegantly. As expected, the Yuuzhan Vong tried very hard to get at him. 

Naas Deron, his blade a mere blur, had shifted his position a bit further away to give his companions more room to move. And Puket for one needed it too. The Twi'lek weaved her lithe body through the enemy troopers with a dancer's grace. Contrary to her lover, who had primarily trained with Chi'in, she was employing less traditional fighting techniques, testimony to the instructions received from Roj Kell . Behind them the loud booming noises of grenades striking the ravine at their backs tore through the din of battle and the raging storm. If any Yuuzhan Vong had managed to circle them they would not get to enjoy that little advantage. 

"Look out!" Deron yelled, and Anakin had only a split-second to react, before he was jumped by four Yuuzhan Vong warriors. He could sense them easily, but it was not yet time to fully employ his powers. This one he would have to fight without the aid of the Force. A kick sent one of the attackers stumbling away, giving Anakin some breathing space, and he twisted out of the way of two amphistaffs that came at him. 

The third he planned to block with his lightsaber, but when he brought his right arm around in a wide arc the rain-soaked cloak clinging to his skin slowed his move to such an extent that he wanted to howl in frustration. Thus hampered he was far too late to react when the Yuuzhan Vong reversed his blade and brought it down hard on the Dark Lord's forearm, cutting through the cloth with astounding ease, and severing the limb completely. The force of the blow shattered Anakin's balance, and he was only dimly aware of the sudden screeching cries that rose around him. Hatred flared from the aliens surrounding him, hatred that bordered on the edge of madness.

Dumb-founded, he stared at his right arm lying in the mud, his artificial right arm, and his mind fused in sudden understanding. The Yuuzhan Vong despised anything mechanical, and to them this droid-like appendage had to make him an abomination too. With a savage grin, the Dark Lord lunged at the next best warrior standing before him and drove the two metal rods that had replaced the bones in his right arm deeply into that one's face. Backhanding the wounded creature with his left hand, he freed himself again and rose to his full height with a slow grace fueled by a distinct feeling of triumph. He was done playing around. Time to show them that the ancient Sith were still very much alive. 

Voss Parck was running with the first wave of his troops, as they moved stealthily across the muddy ground toward the small valley, where the Dark Lord had lured his pursuers into a trap. Holding his left hand up and extending two fingers he signaled for his lieutenants to take their commands and peel off toward the left and right flank to help Sa'lym'a's troopers herd the elite forces attacking them into the fray up ahead. The noise was deafening. When they passed the quarterstaff that stood forlornly on the slope of the hill they had just crossed, Voss Parck could already see the Dark Lord's troops fight off the attacking Yuuzhan Vong. As expected Skywalker, Deron and Puket were in the first line of defense, leaving the others to prepare the battle-ground. 

"Hold!" he called back toward his troops. 

He had no idea what the Dark Lord had meant when he had said that the Sith would rise again, but when he saw the tall warlord straighten after a melee with a number of enemy warriors he gained an inkling of what was to come. All of a sudden the ground seemed to be coming alive when the fifth contingent of Sa'lym'a's troops broke from their hiding places in the low bushes and tall grass separating Voss Parck's group from the Dark Lord and his men. The Yuuzhan Vong were effectively trapped inbetween three forces, and for a moment confusion seemed to spread throughout their ranks. 

The first row of alien warriors was shoved back into the mass of their troops at an imploring gesture from Naas Deron. With the rain having washed away most of the symbols that had been painted on his torso he was almost indistinct against the background of grey and green, his body smeared with paint and mud. In contrast to him his Twi'lek companion seemed particularly pretty, an ethereal beauty amidst violence and imminent death, jarring the overall picture of the battle-field. She wore a smile on her face, a particularly nasty one.

Taking a step forward, she gestured for Deron elegantly, and the bulky human darted forward instantly. He delivered a hard blow to one of the stunned Yuuzhan Vong's neck, dropping the creature to its knees. Then Puket joined the two of them and again the first row was pushed back by an unseen force, leaving only that single warrior in a widening circle of disturbed enemies. Naas Deron held his captive's shoulder tightly as the Twi'lek leaned toward the thing, an almost compassionate expression on her beautiful face.

"Have your priests not seen the portents of misfortune in the guts of your slain?" she asked coldly. "Have they not warned your commanders of the dangers of angering the gods through worthless battles?" The Yuuzhan Vong did not answer. He seemed transfixed by the alien female standing before him. "Had you been worthy," she continued, "you would have been honored to die gloriously." She sniffed in disdain and withdrew again. "Cor'dan," she addressed the Dark Lord with a small bow, "will you speak the judgement for the gods?"

"You are not our gods," the captured Yuuzhan Vong sneered in badly accented Basic. "You are infidels. You are abominations."

Skywalker's face twisted in an ugly snarl that made his scars stand out more prominently than before. "Bring him," he ordered quietly.

Naas Deron obeyed instantly, and the thing was dragged unceremoniously toward the Dark Lord, who let his left hand slip underneath the armor covering the alien warrior's chest. With a powerful jerk he ripped the hard plate off and dropped it to the ground. 

"Unworthy," he snapped. "You believe that you choose the manner and time of your death, yet you let yourselves get caught like Alde birds in mating season. You honor your gods with meaningless death. You mock them with artificial life."

"The gods have looked benevolently upon the Yuuzhan Vong in the past," the warrior said heatedly. "The gods shelter us and lend wisdom to our glorious leaders."

"Glory! What do you know of glory!" the Dark Lord roared. The unfortunate captive's head exploded in a gust of golden light, and bone and gore were splattered everwhere. With a drawn-out howl the creature's comrades surged forward, but Naas Deron spun around and held them back with a gesture of his hand. 

"Glory," Skywalker repeated in a low hiss. "Your sacrifice is not worth anything. Your gods," he continued, each word dripping with contempt, "lie slain among the stars, and it is time for you to join them. It is time for you to perish once and for all." 

Voss Parck held his breath, his body tensing all over in apprehension of the order that would surely come. Then, in a tone that left no doubt as to the Dark Lord's sincerity he said, loud and clear: "Execute them."

"Look at that," Han growled under his breath when the Millennium Falcon began the long approach to Nirauan. Space around what was left of what looked like a mine screen was littered with wreckage, TIEs, burned out cruisers, and even three Star Destroyers. The sad remains of the battle-ships were slowly being drawn in by the planet's gravity, and Han decided to use them as camouflage for his own ship. "What a mess," he sighed and shook his head.

"Once you engage in battle suffering losses becomes part of the game."

Han threw his co-pilot a hard glare, but Andarack did not even have the grace to look embarrassed. "A game, huh? You Sith and your stupid games. And what about the people who died here? Do they count for nothing?"

The Noghri nodded solemnly. "They count for very much, Han Solo. You must not believe that the Sith do not value life."

"It damn well seems to me as if you don't," Han pressed out. "Why're you so silent?" he asked harshly, when Andarack did not answer.

"Death should be met with respect, Han Solo, and a great many people died here. I can sense their anguish. It it worse on a battle-field, because death comes slower there, but even out here it is still strong enough to – " he broke off, and Han suddenly felt embarrassed. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, and a thick silence settled between them. 

The Falcon weaved her way through the debris deftly, but Han took his time to gaze out at the enemy ships that were cruising not far away. His radar was spewing data at him relentlessly, most of it confusing. "What the hell are they doing there?" he asked aloud and slapped a hand impatiently against the radar screen, that showed hundreds of small, pod-shaped objects dropping toward the planet's cloud-shrouded surface. "Bombs?"

"I doubt they can deploy them effectively in such weather," Andarack commented. "Perhaps they are probes of a sort."

"Perhaps," Han echoed pensively. "Do you think you can find them once we're inside the atmosphere?"

"Yes."

"Great! Then hold on tight, 'cause we've run out of cover!" Han shouted and brought the Corellian freighter up to top speed. It was a clear path down, through a giant corridor that had cut through the mine screen somehow. The wall of grey clouds came up fast and then they were inside. "Who-hoo!" the Corellian laughed. "And not a single shot fired at us!"

"They are retreating."

"What?" Bewildered, he glanced over at his co-pilot. The Noghri's nightmarish face was fixed in concentration. "What do you mean, they are retreating?"

"If those were probes, it makes sense for them to move on and keep an eye on the planet over those probes. Logical. Or perhaps those probes are something else entirely."

"Oh, great! Can you be a bit more precise than that?"

"My apologies, no," Andarack answered drily. "But perhaps you should fly a little lower. Over there."

Han let the ship drop a few hundred meters and pointed her toward the distant mountain range. Suddenly the Falcon's sensors were beeping in alarm. "What the heck – Contamination? Looks like one of our ships crashed into the planet."

"Yes," Andarack confirmed, leaning forward in his seat to study the ground intently. "It's the Executor."

Blood draining from his face Han found that he could not breathe. The Executor. Grand Admiral Thrawn's flagship, the most powerful ship left in the galaxy. Gone. "We are done for," he whispered quietly. "If Thrawn is dead we are well and truly done for."

"Don't lose hope yet," Andarack reminded him. "Go down lower, we should be able to see them any moment now."

And indeed, as the ship descended toward the low forests on the other side of the mountain range, Han could make out movement not far off. Killing the thrusters he slowed the ship and brought her back around in an elegant arc. Amidst a heavy rainstorm the Falcon settled down close to the hills at the foot of the mountains, and the Corellian carefully powered down the engines. "You sure this is them?" he asked softly.

"Very," the Noghri replied. "Come. Let's go and meet them."

The aftermath of the execution left Anakin's heart numb and frozen. Now he understood why Roj Kell had never allowed himself to truly commit to feelings. They were so much more intense now, each distant emotion a sting. But there was a way out, he knew, and he had to cling to that ray of light or he might as well go mad with the prospect of leading so lonely and cold a life. That he did not want again. He had spent decades in numb silence, planning and plotting, but in the end none of that had had any real importance. He did not want to embrace the darkness once more. Instead he longed for the warmth of the light, for life itself. Falling to his knees, he closed his eyes, resignation slowly overcoming his fervent desires. 

__

Once accepted there is no way back.

It is worth everything. It is_ everything._

The key to life is life itself. 

Anakin jerked in surprise at the sound of that voice, his own, he realised. It was true. He was the one to determine his own destiny. He rose again, a grim expression on his face that held Naas Deron and Puket at a distance when they moved toward him, concerned. 

"Lord Skywalker!" It was Voss Parck, who was working his way through the ranks of troopers toward them. "I think they are retreating!"

Startled, Anakin gazed up, and indeed, he could sense the ships overhead, could sense the life pulsing through their veins, and they seemed to prepare to leave, just as Parck had said. But there was something else, a familiar presence. Solo. He smiled at the thought of his future son-in-law, and wondered why he was here, how he knew of their plight.

"You are right," he told the admiral, "they are indeed withdrawing their ships. And it would seem as if transport is on its way here." The rain was lessening somewhat, but in its place harsh winds tore at the Chiss standing in the valley, and Anakin could feel their discomfort easily. "Perhaps we should find some shelter," he suggested. 

Turning around to call for Sa'lym'a to find a suitable place for them to rest, he felt his words stick in his throat. At first he thought it was a vision, but if this was a vision, then reality would have to be defined anew. It was Nirauan, but then, it was something else too, a different place, as if it had been changed somehow, redesigned in a way he could not explain. Instead of the lush forests, vines covered the hills, and the mountains seemed strangely grey and green, as if algae or fungus of some sort were growing on them. The entire setting had a feel to it that he found oppressive, and a foul taste seemed to permeate the air around him. 

"Watch it!"

Anakin was taken completely by surprise when Naas Deron impacted against him and both of them hit the muddy ground. Struggling upright, the Dark Lord pushed the other away impatiently. 

"What the hell is that?" Voss Parck exclaimed at the sight of a strange, pod-shaped brown thing that had apparently fallen from the sky. Before the words were even out of his mouth the leathery skin of the thing broke open, and the vile stench that escaped from its interior drove the assembled soldiers back. "Poisonous gas?" the admiral asked quietly, his voice trembling just a bit.

"No," Anakin managed, overwhelmed by revulsion. "They are going to change the planet," he finished and then proceeded to be very noisily sick. 

When he could think straight again the rain had stopped. Puket was bent over him and dabbed at his forehead with a damp towel. He blinked heavy eyelids at her, realising that he was aboard the Millennium Falcon. 

"Solo?" he asked quietly

"He is here, my lord. Admiral Parck and General Sa'lym'a have set out to track these pod-things and destroy them."

Anakin shook his head fervently. "There are too many. We need to be elsewhere."

"Where?" she asked, non-plussed. "If we do not destroy the pods Nirauan will die."

"Not die. It will change," the Dark Lord explained wearily. "But if we stay here we will certainly lose much more than Nirauan. I can feel it."

"Then we will rejoin the Grand Admiral?"

"Yes. We will go to Almashin to meet him there."

"Almashin?" Han Solo asked from where he stood in the doorway, and Anakin started at finding him there so suddenly. 

Nodding at the Corellian, he sought the other's gaze, knowing what he would find there. "Once we are with Thrawn you are free to return to Bilbringi, or Coruscant, wherever Leia may be now," he told Han gently.

The man's expression relaxed somewhat. "You sure you won't need me again to get you out of trouble?"

Anakin smiled. "I am certain."

Han crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes narrowed somewhat. "Bilbringi was attacked."

"What?" Sitting up abruptly, Anakin felt icy fear flash through his mind. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Is my wife all right? Leia?"

"They had picked some bad company the last time I saw them. Kell."

The Dark Lord frowned deeply. "Kell. What was he doing there?"

"He told us that you were in trouble, and your wife sent me to get you into safety. She seemed very concerned for you."

"Really?" He smiled at that, an image of her gentle face dancing enticingly in front of his inner eye. 

"There's more. Yana Dar has sent Karrde some equipment to run some program called Seeker. Requires an awfully big database. Know anything about it?" Han made a face at the look Anakin gave him and added. "Your Lordship," hurriedly.

"I guess you can stop calling me that," the Dark Lord told him graciously.

"Yeah? How should I call you instead?" Han joked. "Dad?" He laughed at that. 

"Perhaps we could stick to first names."

"All right then. Anakin."

Han was a bit suspicious at the sudden offer. So far the Dark Lord had not seemed inclined to acknowledge the role Han played in his daughter's life. He had certainly never been loath to using him as one of his assets, no, but he had never treated him like a member of the family. Apparently that was going to change now. The Corellian felt uncertain how to react to this new situation. On one hand he felt a bit honored, but on the other he believed that Anakin should have made that offer much earlier. Why now? What was he planning to do that required Han to really trust him? The small smile that appeared on the older man's scarred face almost made Han blush in embarrassment.

"Something wrong? Han?"

"Er, no, everything's okay." He noticed the smile on the Twi'lek's features as she sneaked past him to leave the two men alone. Han cleared his throat pointedly. "It is just ... That I had hoped to join Leia a bit earlier."

"We are somewhat short of transport," Anakin explained with a shrug. 

"That isn't just another trick to keep me away from her, is it?"

"You believe that I've been keeping you apart deliberately?" The Dark Lord's brow rose in consternation. "Perhaps you should consider two things: First, I love my daughter, and I want her to be happy. That includes accepting everyone who brings her joy and happiness. Second, I will do anything to ensure her continued happiness, which means fighting this war for her sake, my son's, yours ... Everyone's sake, really. I am not doing anything to spite you, Han. I am only doing what I think is right."

Exhaling slowly, the Corellian pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I get it, I think. And I think Leia should know what has happened here."

Anakin nodded gravely and rose from the bunk he had been resting on. "Andarack is with you?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Intution. I need to talk to him in private. Can you try and get Leia or Padmé on the line?"

"Sure," Han replied, feeling dismissed. He turned around to leave the small cabin and wandered over toward the cockpit, lost in thought. Of course he understood that Skywalker – Anakin – was not doing this for selfish reasons. If he were selfish, he would probably rule the galaxy by now. Smiling wrily to himself he set about getting a lead on Leia's whereabouts.

TBC

PS: Of course Chapter 27 had to have a romantic ending; after all, Belana has played the romantic part over most of the Backlash-Storyline, and its only fair that Kell gets his back for being totally unromantic, if sentimental.


	30. Chapter 29 - Seekers of Truth

****

****

Chapter 29 – Seekers of Truth

Leia had taken a seat in one of the comfortable couches dotting the extensive cabin aboard the Star Destroyer Freedom as the warship made its way through hyperspace toward Coruscant. One arm draped over the back of the couch she was watching her mother pace the length of the cabin furiously. She seemed agitated, restless, and Leia had a feeling she knew the source of her mother's discomfort. 

"Is there anything you have done that you feel so guilty now?" she asked quietly. 

Padmé stopped in her tracks, her large brown eyes turning a startled glance on her daughter. "How – No, I won't ask." She sighed, and briefly closed her eyes. Then, as if making some hard decision, she joined Leia on the couch. She did not quite meet her daughter's gaze, though. "Do I feel guilty? I guess, in a sense I feel I have betrayed your father."

"Betrayed? How?" Leia asked, bewildered.

"Because I was not with him, when –" she broke off and her lips compressed to a tight line, showing her despair. "I feel that he is slipping away from me again."

"Something to do with Roj Kell?"

"Yes. He told me ... he told me that he could wait no longer in choosing a successor. He has chosen your father."

Leia gasped in shock. "No!"

"I believe him," her mother said ever so softly. "I believe he is going to die soon, and that was why ... I have to be with him now," she concluded with a loud sob.

"Where did he send Boba Fett?"

"To Byss. He wanted him to carry a message back to Yana Dar." Her mother gave her a pensive look. "Yana had sent Fett to kill him, for killing her brother."

"I see. He never wastes any resources, does he?" she added lightly. "But what –"

A chime at the door interrupted her question of what that message contained, and Leia rose numbly to open. An ensign stood before her and gave her a quick nod.

"Incoming call for you. I will prepare the transmission," he explained and entered without her permission. Leia frowned after him as he walked over to the cabin's intercomm station. It did not take him long to make the connection to the Star Destroyer's main comm center, and he gave the princess a nod and a smile before he left again.

An instant later a familiar voice resounded from the comm speakers. "Leia? Are you there?"

"Han!" she exclaimed, a joyful smile echoing the feelings that fluttered through her heart. "Have you found him?"

"Yes, yes, he's all right and mostly intact," he chuckled at that for some reason. "Is your mother with you?"

"Yes, she's here." Leia waved Padmé closer, and then both sat down on the small cushions in front of the intercomm. "What's you status?"

"We're on our way to –"

"Leia, it is good to hear the two of you are well."

"Father," she replied fondly at the sound of the familiar baritone. And she also noticed that he had quite deliberately prevented Han from blurting out their destination. 

"We are making good progress. Nirauan is secured for now. Han tells me you had trouble on Bilbringi?"

"Yes, a worldship attacked the planet, but we had some assistance. Han told you?" If they were being monitored she did not want to risk telling anyone that she had destroyed the ship, with Roj Kell's help, of course. For some reason she remembered the ensign who had rigged up the connection. But then her father's voice derailed that train of thought again. 

"Yes, he did. Just one ship?"

"Yes." She frowned. "Why?"

"Nothing. Do not concern yourself with it."

"Anakin," her mother said suddenly. "I need to talk to you."

"I –" he seemed to hesitate. "Yes. I believe we need to talk. Not just now."

"It has to be now," Padmé insisted. She gave Leia a pleading glance and her daughter complied with a nod. 

The princess rose from her seat elegantly and directed a smile at the comm, even though she knew the two men could not see it. "Then I will leave the two of you alone. Han, I love you. Come back soon, okay?"

"Okay, honey," he answered hoarsely, "as soon as I can make it."

"See you soon," she answered in a whisper and turned toward the door. She needed to speak to Captain Illichiyame at once.

Leaning her head against the comm, Padmé closed her eyes. "Anakin?"

"I am still here," he replied softly.

She smiled at that. "Good."

"What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Can't you guess? If Han told you everything, you know who was on Bilbringi. He said ... he said ... " Her voice broke. "I don't want to lose you again," she concluded in a hush.

"You won't," he said, a hint of anger and determination in his voice. 

"But you know what became of him, you know what he did to be able to pursue his duties. Don't you?" she asked quietly. 

"Padmé," he told her gently, "I am not like him. I will never push you away again."

"He said you were no longer part of this world," she pressed out, tears choking her words. "That you no longer belonged with me."

"That is not true," he was quick to appease her. "Padmé, I love you. And that love is keeping me alive. Do you understand? You are my light, my life."

"But –"

"No but," he admonished her, his tone so gentle that it made her smile happily. "I know my way. My destiny is not his, and I am not like him. I know that. You should, too."

"You sound as if you are trying to convince yourself," she said, the smile fading somewhat. "How am I to believe you are sincere?" For a while there was silence, and Padmé feared that she had put him off somehow. But in the end he answered, a silent answer, that almost broke her heart. 

"It is true. There is no questioning the truth. If you look into your heart you will find truth there, too. I can feel it. I can feel you," he added, sounding awed, and Padmé imagined that he was touching her, that she could feel him too. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in that sweet dream. 

"Anakin," she breathed. "I love you. I will always be with you. Always."

"I do not see anything unsual in the ensign's behavior," Captain Illichiyame said calmly, but Leia could sense a hint of doubt in the Bith' mind. 

"It was not entirely his behaviour that disturbed me, Captain, it was more of a feeling," the princess answered. "But I would still like this man's background investigated."

"You are the Minister of State, Princess," Illichiyame explained resignedly. "And we are at war, so I suppose we need not go through the entire bureaucratic procedure such a request would normally entail. If you want to question him, feel free to enlist on board Intelligence."

Leia nodded gravely. "Thank you. I will give you my report once I am finished with him." She gave the captain no chance to reply, but simply rushed out of the Bith' office and toward where she knew any standard New Republic ship housed its Intelligence and Communications departments. A Devaronian greeted her cordially.

"Princess. A pleasure to have you here. I am Corporal Ulvey. How may I be of assistance?"

"You lead this department, Corporal?"

"Yes."

"Very good," Leia said with a smile. "I need every scrap of information you have on a crew member, Ensign Tschel."

"Coming up at once," he answered and promptly turned toward a workstation and began calling up screen after screen. "If I may, do you suspect him of something?"

"At the moment I feel inclined to suspect anyone," she replied coolly, and he gave her a pensive nod. 

"Very wise, Princess. Ah. Here we are." He waved her over to join him and Leia complied quietly. "The ensign joined the New Republic navy after the end of the war against the Empire. Before he joined us, he apparently had a post as communications officer aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Hydra."

"So he has Imperial origins and allegiances," Leia mused aloud. "This is too obvious for a spy."

"When he joined his background was checked very thoroughly," Ulvey suggested, "and I agree with you, this would be too obvious."

"But I still believe he should be questioned. The Empress has assured us of her unlimited cooperation in this war. Perhaps you should contact Byss and clarify Tschel's position."

The corporal nodded again. "At once, Princess. I will inform you once I have news. And Tschel will be ready for questioning within the hour."

"Thank you, Corporal. That would be all for now."

An hour later Leia was seated in one of the ship's conference rooms in an emergency meeting she had called immediately upon receiving Ulvey's report. Now, having been joined by her mother and Captain Illichiyame herself, she was facing the very flustered moff of Anobis. Wringing his hands, Hah Kima seemed at a loss of what to say, and Leia could understand his confusioin very well. 

"Are you certain that no more attacks will occur in the near future?" she asked very quietly.

"Who knows?" he replied with a shrug, a helpless gesture, and she could see the despair and doubt in his eyes. "I returned here only to find the planet in ashes. The facilities have been destroyed, and my troops are still busy hunting down the last stragglers of the invasion force. It was sheer luck that we managed to destroy their flagship."

"And nothing of the Empress' whereabouts?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. The Empress has vanished, along with Counselor Sarreti. Perhaps they have managed to flee. But it will take time to round up some witnesses. The citadel is totally ruined. I am not sure if there are any survivors of the raid at all." He bit his lower lip hard. "I do not know where we will go from here on," he said quietly. "With the Empire under attack, we must consider recalling the forces the Empress sent out to assist the Grand Admiral."

Leia remained silent, not knowing what to say. But Captain Illichiyame leaned toward the moff's holoimage and asked: "Are you certain that the Empress was not on board the ship you destroyed?" The princess paled.

"Who can say?" Hah Kima answered, throwing up his hands in resignation. "We had no choice but to destroy that ship. I hope she was not on board, I pray she is safe. But now we have to concern ourselves with the survival of our people, the survival of the Empire."

"Tell me, Moff Kima," Padmé began softly, "with the Empress gone, who will take over?"

"We will convene a council of war, naturally," he replied, slightly flustered. "We will have to work together against this threat."

"I agree," the former queen continued. "And therefore I believe you should under no circumstances recall your ships from the front. The enemy has to be defeated out there, and each raid that is directed against New Republic or Imperial space must be countered here, with the forces present in those sectors. We must form a defensive unity."

"Yes, yes," Kima hurried to tell her, "I absolutely agree. We need to stand together. We must share our troops, information, anything that can help us defeat this foe."

"With your permission, Moff Kima," Leia added, "we should consider an exchange of liaisons. We will send a representative to assist you as soon as we have reached Coruscant. I would ask you to select a representative of your own."

He exhaled slowly, obviously relieved. "I admire your courage, Princess. Your Highness," he sighed, including Padmé in his praise. "I must admit that I am at a loss of what to do. This is a disaster."

"We understand your feelings," the princess soothed him. "But we will weather this crisis together. Do not lose hope, Moff Kima. The New Republic will stand with you."

"Thank you," he breathed, a smile appearing on his lips. "I am most grateful for your offer. I will brief you shortly on the proceedings here on Byss."

"Do that," Leia replied pleasantly and signaled for the captain to cut the transmission. She gazed into the empty space where Hah Kima had just vanished, and her mother had to call her name twice before she reacted. "Hm?"

"A representative?" Padmé asked, frowning. "What are you up to?"

"It is practical. That way our representative can control the flow of information coming into Byss. Undoubtedly they will do the same."

"And who do you want to send?"

Leia smiled at her mother. "This will be a difficult assignment, and, as Father always tells me, Corellians are very adept at solving difficult problems."

Her mother's eyes widened as she realized who Leia was referring to. Then she answered her daughter's smile with one of her own. "I see. Oh, my little girl has grown very shrewd. They won't know what hit them. Do you know where he is right now?"

The princess shook her head. "No, alas not. But I have a feeling that Karrde will know."

Wrenga Jixton was restless. He could not shed the distinct feeling that the Dark Lord had pushed him out of the big picture deliberately, and his Corellian pride was rebelling vehemently against such a treatment. They had relocated to the Pashey Club, which had become Karrde's headquarters here on Nar Shadaa, but so far nothing interesting had happened. Nothing at all. It did not help that Mara was fueling his impatience by pacing the room up and down, her arms crossed in front of her, a stormy expression on her face. Her emerald eyes were sparkling with impatience.

"Go help Karrde!" she snapped. "As if the man needed help for anything!" Rounding on Jix, she propped her fists on her hips challengingly. "What was he trying to accomplish by sending us here?"

The Corellian shrugged. "Don't ask me, baby, cause I'm just as clueless as you are."

"Oh, fine. Thank you so much. Now I'm clueless?"

He rolled his eyes at her indignation. "You know I didn't mean it that way."

"Luckily I do. Still, what if he expects Karrde to come up with something that needs a quick resolution? You and I'd be the perfect pair for the job."

  
Jix gave her a pensive look. "You know, you have a point there," he conceded. "But Calrissian will be moving the equipment to Bespin soon, and then what do we do? Follow Karrde and the baron?"

She shrugged. "Well, things on Ryloth seem quiet enough, and Joral hasn't complained, so I guess we're free to do whatever we want. Or do you want to check back with Her Highness?"

"Which one?" Jix asked pensively. When Mara did not reply he shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up to see her gaze at him incredulously. 

"What do you mean 'which one'?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Well, obviously Her Ladyship is responsible for the entire operation here on Nar Shadaa, not the princess."

Suddenly Mara joined him on the sofa. Her emerald eyes were gleaming fervently, and he could see that she was intrigued by something. "Do you think this Seeker program will ever be operational again?"

"Karrde has his people working on it, plus Yana's own agents."

She snorted softly. "Toss Halan and Min'da Sher, yes. What did she send them for? To spy on us?"

"I don't know," Jix answered lightly. "Karrde said they reported for duty, that they were to assist him. Of course," he added, "her intentions might have been different."

"Yes," Mara breathed, "and I have a feeling that we should find out what they are fast."

A knock on the door brought both their heads around. "Come!" they called in unison. Mara grinned at Jix and rose from her seat when their visitor came in. It was Talon Karrde himself. He gave Mara a casual nod before addressing the still-seated Corellian. The door slid close behind him.

"Bad news," he began gravely. "Thrawn and Skywalker have suffered heavy losses at Nirauan, and Bilbringi and Byss were attacked. The Empress has disappeared. We have to assume that she's in enemy hands."

"Shit," Jix said under his breath, heart-felt. "What do you need us to do?"

The information broker gave a shrug. "My people have finally managed to get the program to run, with Toss Halan's help, admittedly. I had them feed that new information into the Seeker. Results aren't up yet."

"You have the Seeker operational?" Mara exclaimed. "Finally!"

Karrde's eyes lit up. "That database is a treasure trove of knowledge." 

"We know all that, but is it truly reliable?" the red-head continued, sounding suspicious. Undoubtedly she was remembering the first testing of the program back on Byss, that she had witnessed.

"It did predict this disaster correctly," the older man answered drily. That brought Jix out of his seat.

"You _knew_ this would happen?" he demanded, feeling betrayed somehow. "You are telling us you knew this disaster would happen and didn't warn us?"

"Just like Jade here, I had my reservations," Karrde returned coolly. "But I suppose now we know we can build on this program."

"Wait a minute. You didn't know all that just by asking the program. Who confirmed it?" Mara asked.

"The princess. She called from aboard the Freedom, said it was urgent that you returned to Coruscant to meet her."

"Coruscant," Jix echoed. "So she's finally back." He gave Karrde a hard glance. "All right. We'll be leaving straight away. If your people don't have the results until then you'll send them to Coruscant." Karrde crossed his arms in front of his chest pointedly. "What?" Jix asked, annoyed.

"The Seeker was a gift from Yana Dar to your boss, not the New Republic. I will respect that gift."

"Fine," the Corellian said resignedly, but an edge of anger lingered in his tone. "So what do you suggest?"

"At least wait until we have the results, then give them to Her Ladyship in person."

"She's returning to Coruscant too?"

"Yes." The information broker turned away to leave. "My best regards to the ladies. I'll see you off later on."

"My, wasn't that interesting," Mara commented quietly once the door had closed behind him. 

Talon Karrde paced back to the club's extensive comm center, where his engineers and slicers had been fussing over the Seeker program for the past days. When it had first become operational he had, just for fun, asked it to give a summary of the current situation. It had asked the date, the location, and a few other questions, and that in itself was unusual. That a computer program would ask for additional information, and so specific information too. Karrde hadn't been the only one who had felt uneasy as they had sat in front of the five screens, waiting for it to finish its calculations. And then it had presented this report in all its cold details.

__

Hutt Space is secure. Independence will have been achieved by many worlds, probably along the Perlemian Trade Route. This will open a bridge to the Corporate Sector. The Allied Task Force has been defeated in the Unknown Regions. After heavy losses the New Republic and the Chiss forces will stand alone against the Yuuzhan Vong. An alliance would be advisable. The Empire will be considering a withdrawal from the war. 

Karrde was wondering hard what the program would come up with next. When he entered the comm center he waved Aves closer. "Any progress?"

The man gave him a glum nod. "Better see for yourself, boss. This is pretty scary."

Following his second, Karrde joined the small group in front of the five screens. Min'da Sher, Toss Halan and a few others were studying the data displayed there, each intent on a different screen. At one glance Karrde could see that four of the five screens showed only gibberish, while the center-most, fifth screen displayed only a short message. 

__

Data stream too extensive. Change mode.

"What does that mean, 'change mode'?" the broker asked the team in general. 

"We are not sure. It seemed to be working okay, and brought up all that stuff on the other screens. We can't decypher it, though," Aves, reported.

"Is it code? Another language?"

"We assume it is both," Toss Halan explained wearily. "And we have no idea how we can change the mode, or what that even means, to change the mode."

"Who has been working last on this? Does anyone know?"

The men gazed at one another. "One of Yana Dar's slicers?" Min'da Sher ventured at last. "Othana perhaps," he added hurriedly when Karrde gave him a cold glare.

"Too bad Othana is dead. And the others? As far as I recall they were all arrested at Markhan's orders. Any chance of tracking them down? Where would they be held?"

"We could probably find out through Antham," Aves mused aloud. "I believe Her Ladyship left Cesh Kendar on Ryloth before she left. He might be able to help us."

"Then see to it that he does," Karrde told him quietly. "Why would a computer program need to ask for a mode change? Shouldn't that happen automatically? How do you communicate with this thing?"

"Type at the keyboard," Toss Halan said, demonstrating.

"Really? I never would have thought," Karrde commented somewhat icily. "Then why don't you type 'accept mode change' or whatever?"

"We tried that," Min'da Sher explained, then nodded at his companion. "Show him."

Toss Halan did as told, resignation plain on his features. Instantly, the words on the center screen disappeared and were replaced by another message, with a counter displayed that was running rapidly toward zero. Leaning forward, Karrde squinted at the screen.

"Select mode," he read aloud. "I see."

Then the counter reached zero and the screen jumped back to the previous message. Karrde pursed his lips thoughtfully and gazed at the screen without really seeing it. So far the program had been reacting to outward input and had asked for additional information if it deemed it necessary. 

"What modes did you try?"

"A number. Nothing worked, obviously," Halan said with a helpless shrug.

"How about the simple ones?"

"Simple ones? We tried everything we know."

"Try 'extensive'."

"What?" The man stared at him, aghast.

"Try it. What could possibly happen?"

With a sigh, Toss Halan turned back to the keyboard. The next screen appeared, asking him to select the mode. He typed 'extensive' just as Karrde had suggested. Everyone held their breath. Nothing happened.

"Well. Nice try, boss," Aves began, but Karrde held up a hand.

"Look at the counter."

And indeed, to the others' great surprise, the counter was counting not toward zero, but up, and very fast. 

"Well, I'll be a –" Toss Halan swore, but then, with a barely audible 'ping', the counter stopped at three thousand. The screen remained blank.

"All right," Karrde said. "It should have all the current information you fed it, right?" Halan nodded. "Then let's get an analysis and a prediction for the outcome of this mess." Toss Halan typed away furiously, and when he was finished another message flashed on the screen. 

__

Activate reevaluation motivator?

"Yes! Damn you, yes!" Halan screamed, his patience finally snapping. "Sorry," he said, turning a flustered glance at Karrde. 

"No problem. Proceed, please. And alert me once it's finished."

The Mahsenda left hyperspace after a four-hour jump, and Luke felt endlessly grateful for that. He was practically bristling with anxiety. But Commander Al'than'erudo had forbidden him and Chi'in to contact either Anakin or Thrawn. He did not want the enemy to know about the stealth cruiser at all. It was, of course, an understandable order, but the young Jedi was impatiently hoping for any news from his parents, his sister and friends. Al'than'erudo's hostility did not help his uneasiness at all. The mission into the Lieman Corridor had been a disaster, a catastrophe he himself had heavily contributed to, and he needed to know that someone else had had some success. But Chi'in had cautioned him, arguing quietly that he should never underestimate the enemy. Luke did not share his view. Force, he did not even know if any of his family were even alive! No. He knew they were alive. In the depth of his heart he knew. But the happenings on Laa'kuan had shaken him badly. He was uncertain where to go, unsure how to continue. 

Which way was he to follow?

[Luke, be calm], Nolyane told him gently. [You will see, my homeworld will ease you worries.] Her cobalt blue eyes were sparkling with happiness as she gazed ahead, out of the viewport and toward the planet spread out before them.

Luke swallowed hard. The Star People's home was a pale green jewel, with white clouds racing across its surface. So peaceful. "It looks beautiful," he ventured at last. "But I do not know if it can heal my soul."

She looked at him, creating a private space amidst the bustle of the cruiser's bridge easily with her very presence. She had shed her fears so quickly, had managed to overcome her losses so bravely. Why could he not be as strong as she was? Or Chi'in, for that matter. 

[Luke], she began anew, [Your soul will recover from anguish once you find peace. You cannot find peace on a battle-field. You need to recover. You and your friends. We will help you.]

He gave a slow nod. "Yes. I know," he answered softly. Then, looking into her eyes, he smiled. "There is something I must do, and only you can help me."

Laying her three-fingered hand on his arm, she led him over to a crash-couch, a bit further away from the bridge's busyness. She seated herself elegantly and motioned for him to join her. [What is it that I can do for you?] she asked.

"When I was on Kynda'bey I – joined – with the Mahsenda, the predators that live there," the young man explained. "The same way the guardian joined you and me. It was perfect, a bond of trust. I thought I had achieved the same on Laa'kuan, when –" he broke off, his mood darkening at the memory. 

[I understand], Nolyane assured him quietly. [But sometimes things are not what they seem. Sometimes we let ourselves be blinded by our desires, wants and wishes. You will see, when we are home there will be nothing you will crave any longer.]

The way she said 'home', that drawn-out, low hoot so full of yearning, it made Luke's heart ache. He had no home any longer. Home had been Tatooine, once, before he had been drawn into this never-ending battle. How much he wished for it to end. He felt that there was so much to learn, but he never found the time to understand. Always he was faced with new problems that he tried to solve, and only in so very few cases did he manage to overcome his wonder and truly find the truth. The way he had seen the truth in his father's motives, the despair in Nuron's defiance. But everything was changing so fast ...

Squeezing Nolyane's shoulder amiably, he smiled at her. "I hope I will find that peace, Star Keeper. I know I need it."

But somewhere, deep inside, he found that he did not deserve it. 

"What is happening to him?" Nuron breathed as she came full circle to face Chi'in again. She held her lightsaber in a guard position, waiting for him to answer her question. The Noghri, his own blade pointed straight at her midsection, hesitated for a moment. She had asked him to spar with her, and he understood her need. She was a warrior and she hated inaction. And there was a lot she needed to deal with, mentally. That included her own fate, and that of Luke.

Finally, his voice so low that he himself had trouble hearing it, he answered: "I think he is learning how to be a Sith."

Nuron lowered her blade, shocked. "What?"

Deactivating his own lightsaber, Chi'in straightened up to face her and look into her golden eyes. "Think about it. When we met him he had been training to become a Jedi. He studied with Master Yoda for quite some time, to learn."

Nuron shut down her weapon and glared at him. "What are you trying to tell me? That he is losing his insight?"

"No. He is _gaining_ insight. He is developing it further. But back then he only knew about the Light. Now he has seen Darkness, has experienced it himself. He is uncertain about his path."

"So?" The Zabrak fastened the handle of her lightsaber to her belt with deft movements. "Will he find it?"

Chi'in smiled. "Oh yes. I am confident that he will succeed in that endeavor. But he is learning that true mastery is the balance of Light and Dark. That true mastery is achieved through control, through knowledge. That knowledge includes acceptance of one's own feelings, and evaluation of one's own motives. Luke has a generous heart. If he could, he would give more than he can. He has to learn that he has limits."

"I – " she stopped, suddenly pensive. "That was what he was taught back on Laa'kuan, isn't it?"

Chi'in knew what she was thinking of. He knew it all too well. "Yes," he breathed. "We all learn that lesson. But he needs to move on."

"How can I help him?"

Her sincere devotion to the young Jedi touched the Noghri's heart. Luke could not have found a better companion than her. He was so vulnerable, his very personality, his innocence, making him easy prey for anyone who knew his weaknesses. But Nuron was there to guard him, to shield him against the storm he was fighting and that he would never learn to close his heart to. He needed her more than she needed him, Chi'in thought. And in her love for him she was proving her strength and her own insight. 

"I believe that he seeks a confirmation for his path," he said at last. "A confirmation for his dreams. He is a guardian and he thinks he has turned into a killer. You need to remind him of what he truly is."

Nuron's golden eyes lit up spectacularly, and a smile spread on her lips. "I think I know how I can do that," she whispered. "Yes." She nodded to herself determinedly. "And you will help me."

"Master Chi'in."

Turning around, the Noghri gazed impassively at the Chiss commander who had appeared in the doorway. "Commander. What can I do for you?"

Al'than'erudo gave Nuron a pensive glance, then returned his gaze to Chi'in: "We have arrived. Nolyane is calming her people down, but she does not want me to accompany you to the surface. I – I would like to go nevertheless."

"Why?"

The young Chiss kept silent for a while. Then: "It is about what you told me about responsibility. I have a duty toward these people, just as you said. I want to honor that duty."

"They regard you as their enemy," Chi'in reminded him. "And if Nolyane does not approve, what good will my word do? She is their Star Keeper."

"Talk to her, Master Chi'in. I beg you. I feel I must do this."

"Feel?" Black eyes staring at the other, Chi'in took a step toward Al'than'erudo. "Feel? Is that all? Do you think this a test? Do you believe this is a hurdle you must pass to achieve greater understanding of responsibility and duty?"

"I – " The Chiss' eyes widened worriedly, as the short alien advanced on him steadily.

"You believe you can choose your own tests, Commander. But those are no challenges. Those are no lessons. You will learn nothing through those. You can only learn when you are faced with something new."

"But this will be new for me," Al'than'erudo insisted.

"Yet you have already made up your mind of how to face this challenge. You know what you will do, have chosen your words, your gestures, your emotional state. Is that not so?"

The other lowered his head in defeat. "Yes," he breathed.

Chi'in exhaled slowly and his shoulder slumped somewhat in resignation. "You may accompany us, Commander, if you are ready to forget all that you have prepared in advance, and react to the moment. Only then. Unfortunately," he added, "I, too, feel that you should do this. I can sense your determination, and I have faith in your sincerity." Looking up, he met the Chiss' red-eyed gaze calmly. "Make your choices. But make the right ones."

When the black, chitinuous shuttle that had picked them up on the Mahsenda's main hangar deck had finally touched down on the planet Luke felt even more depressed than before. He felt on edge, caged. He needed to do something. But Nolyane, who sat to his right, only smiled at him, as if telling him that everything would be all right once they set foot on her homeworld. He did not quite believe it. Nuron, who sat to his other side, tentatively took his hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze. He did not meet her eyes. Then Nolyane rose from her seat, motioning for them to follow her. Luke let Nuron guide him toward the exit hatch, with Chi'in and Al'than'erudo following behind. Nolyane had already gone ahead with the rest of the Star People that had survived Laa'kuan. 

When he stepped out into the open the first that Luke noticed was the air. It was clear and fresh, with a hint of something elusive, yet very compelling. It was just a feeling, yet it lifted his heart and made him smile instantly. The light was bright, but not uncomfortably so, as if everything were unreal, as if he were dreaming. It illuminated the landing platform their ship had settled down on and was reflected from the spire that rose from the city center. Looking around, Luke felt his head spin. The buildings seemed to be organic, a pale green that echoed the hues of the forests and plains surrounding the city itself. They had no doors, no windows, but what looked like air roots, that intertwined into elegant formations that left little holes and bigger ones everywhere. 

Beside him, Nuron inhaled sharply. "Oh my stars," she moaned. "Look at that! It is – so – so beautiful." It was not the word to describe it, he knew, but he could not put others to it, there were none. Vibrant came close, but only close.

Nolyane returned with three other Star People, and she was smiling. [Welcome on Ooonda], she said, and Luke hurriedly translated for the others, blushing a bit. [We have prepared a welcome for our guests Now, please, leave your weapons here. I have just received news that we have other guests too.] She gave Al'than'erudo a pointed look. [They might not appreciate the presence of weapons]. 

Luke frowned, as he kept his gaze on the Chiss. The commander, determination plain on his handsome features, looked just a little bit uncertain. But then he nodded. Once they had left their weapons in the custody of Polay, one of the Star People Chi'in had made friends with, they accompanied the Star Keeper toward the spire, the grandest building of the city. Luke guessed that it was the seat of the government, or whatever passed for government here. As they came closer toward the building Luke could identify the intricate design of the entire structure. The vines followed a certain flow, making the spire appear like a frozen waterfall of a pale green hue. In places the vines bore translucent pod-like fruit, Luke found, and then he realized that those were blossoms of some kind. He pointed one out to Nuron, and she smiled. 

Leaning toward him, she whispered: "Do you remember the cave on Kynda'bey?"

He did. Wonderingly, he continued staring as they passed the threshold and moved into the structure. It was darker, naturally, but where it became too dark the blossoms were in full bloom, glowing in a pale, cool yellow light that made Luke's jaw drop. Now he knew what Nuron meant. The illumination was very reminiscent of the cave on Kynda'bey and the maze on Laa'kuan. Was there a connection, maybe?

The Star People moved along the passageways elegantly, graceful creatures whose winged headcrests did not seem awkward at all. In fact, they seemed to be just perfect. Their chestnut fur seemed to contrast the colors surrounding them, but complemented them too, in a way. All of them bowed toward the Star Keeper as she passed, greeting her in pleasant, low hoots that she did not return. Luke wondered at that. Perhaps the Star Keeper was not really a person of authority, but more of a symbol. But before he could follow that train of thought further they had reached what seemed to be their destination, a huge chamber that made up the core of the spire. 

The chamber floor was a small depression, with no even ground at all, and the entire room rose toward the top of the spire in elegant arches. Pathways circled the entire inside of the spire, allowing one to walk up to the top itself, which was just a tiny skylight way up high. The air was filled with that special scent Luke had noticed outside, and a hum of voices that was soothing and pleasant. All along the walls blossoms provided discreet light, and more Star People had assembled along the walls, like seeds lined up in some giant fruit. The image made Luke smile, but it seemed to fit. The only ones jarring this overall picture were three groups of strangers. 

One group consisted of tall, bipedal aliens, their bodies and limbs so spindly that they looked like giant insects. Their eyes, vertical slits set into long faces, dominated their features, apart from the mandibles that served as mouths. They were conversing in high, whispering voices, and all of them stared at the newcomers. The second group was made up of only three aliens, their leader easily identifiable by the armor he or she wore. They looked more humanoid than the first group, with bodies and limbs of human proportions, but their faces were dominated by bony ridges that hooded their eyes and formed prominent crests on top of their hairless skulls. The third and last group, then, presented, to Luke's mind, the most normal of them. They were humanoid, with dark gray skin, long tails, black hair and pitch-black eyes. Their mouths were made to appear wider than they truly were, with their lips seemingly touching their earlobes. That decoration split their faces cleanly in half, optically. 

One of them, a male dressed in fine, silky robes of color-changing green and gray, made a sharp gesture at his companions and stormed toward Nolyane, his long, muscular tail twitching angrily. He planted himself in front of her in an unmistakable gesture of anger and began talking to her rapidly. The Star Keeper listened to him patiently for a while, then shook her head gently. She brushed past him without further comment, and walked down onto the sloping floor of the chamber. The alien male stared after her, dumb-founded, but then he found another target for his indignation. With an audible growl he turned toward the newcomers and went to meet them. Ignoring Luke and Nuron he extended a hand and put it on Al'than'erudo's chest, stopping the Chiss commander short. 

"You not welcome," he hissed in garbled Basic. "You not welcome here on Ooonda."

Al'than'erudo looked at the other's hand quite pointedly, but the alien did not react, instead continued glaring at the Chiss. 

"The Star Keeper has invited me," he answered at last. "She has welcomed me here. You are a guest, as am I. Now, please, take your hand away."

"Afraid?" the stranger challenged him, and his lips drew back into a mirthless smile. 

Luke nearly jumped when they peeled back the _entire_ way, revealing gray gills from his sharp teeth back to his ears. But he did comply and withdrew his hand. To Luke's horror his fingers were no fingers at all, but tubes, that looked like fingers. Apparently those were no ordinary tubes either, for they left small blood-stains were they had touched the commander, even through the cloth of his uniform, and the young Jedi could catch a flicker of pain from Al'than'erudo. 

"Ishare Luvo not welcome you. You enemies. But honor the guests of Nolyane Star Keeper."

"Thank you," Al'than'erudo said between gritted teeth. Ishare Luvo turned away to rejoin his people, head held high in a proud gesture. "Lappas," the commander continued in a low voice. "They are dangerous." Rubbing a hand across his chest he added, "and poisonous. The others are Spider People and Likkets. They aren't so bad, but that Luvo will be trouble." He gave Luke a weary glance. "Perhaps accompanying you was a mistake."

The young Jedi shook his head in amazement. "Not at all. I mean, who would be able to tell us who all these people are if you were not with us?"

And, wonder of wonders, the Chiss smiled at him. "You are right. Come. I think it is time for introductions."

TBC

Another PS: 

Come on, guys, old Kell has been around for over three thousand years. Give him a break! Which of course does not exclude a comback at some point in the story...


	31. Chapter 30 - A New Order

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Chapter 30 – A New Order

Nolyane opened the ceremony with a prayer, welcoming everyone, and introducing the guests to her people. Then she proceeded to tell them of her voyage to Laa'kuan, a voyage she had made on behalf of all those assembled, where she had sought to calm the gods with a ritual that had never come to be. She emphasized vehemently the help she and her companions had received from Luke, Chi'in, Nuron and Al'than'erudo. And she told them of the strange people that had broken the peace of the sanctuary. Once she was finished, a thick silence filled the giant chamber, as each attendee digested this information. Luke and Al'than'erudo took turns translating for Chi'in and Nuron, and the Noghri felt that the two men were finally laying their differences aside. But then the peaceful gathering took a dangerous turn.

[Star Keeper, how are we to proceed?] someone asked tentatively. [If the Abernake are dead, who will speak to the gods for us? Who will ask their protection for us?]

Nolyane shook her head. [I will find a way], she reassured them, but Chi'in could feel that she was not at all confident. Then, to the audible gasps of surprise from the Star People. Al'than'erudo walked down to join the Star Keeper. She gazed at him out of cobalt blue eyes, uncomprehending. 

[May I speak?] the Chiss asked demurely, and Chi'in felt his breath catch. At his side, Luke suddenly seemed very suspicious, but he kept on translating. [There is something the Star People should know.]

Nolyane regarded him for a while, her eyes seemingly searching his very soul. At last she gave a nod and took a formal step back to yield the floor to him. Al'than'erudo, head held high, let his gaze drift over the entire assembly, as if trying to memeorise each face. Then, facing the Star Keeper once more, he dropped to his knees, and in an instant Chi'in knew what was going to happen next. The apprehension made him wince inwardly.

[Please, tell us], the Star Keeper asked the commander softly.

[The Chiss have been your enemies for a long time], he began. [We are all trying to survive out here, survive as a people, a race, and some of us seek to dominate the others. The Chiss pursue a defensive strategy in protecting their borders, as you know. That includes gathering intelligence on the activities of our enemies.] Raising his head, he gazed at Nolyane out of glowing red eyes. [The Chiss were always excluded form the gatherings on Laa'kuan, and we were wondering why. We believed you were forming an alliance against us, under the Abernake's guidance. We believed Laa'kuan to house a weapon of enormous destructive potential.] Here he stole a glance at Luke and added, very quietly. [Now we know we were right.]

By now Luke had also caught on to what the Chiss was doing, and his voice was trembling as he translated the other's words. Chi'in lay a hand on his arm, a gentle warning. 

Down on the floor Al'than'erudo continued. [One of our commanders decided that we could not take the risk of facing an overwhelming force, and he identified the Abernake as the key to establishing that force.]

[So you killed them], Nolyane finished for him, her voice sounding harsh. All along the walls of the chamber the Star People began talking excitedly, and she did nothing to calm them down.

Nodding, slowly, Al'than'erudo confirmed her statement. [That commander was severely reprimanded for his actions, for the Chiss philosophy does not sanction preemptive strikes. He was later exiled for his transgressions.]

[Why are you telling us all this?] the Star Keeper demanded. [You said it yourself, you are our enemy, and only your actions to aid us on Laa'kuan protect you here. I have spoken for you, Al'than'erudo, but you condemn yourself. Why?]

[I want to be truthful with you.], the Chiss explained. [I have learned something about respect, I think, and understanding. And I want you to know the truth. We must all stand against this new foe, and that requires trust.]

[You should die for that crime], an angry voice hissed, and Chi'in knew the speaker to be Ishare Luvo. [You seek to gain our trust and spit in our faces!]

[Ishare Luvo speaks the truth], Nolyane agreed. [You cannot expect us to be lenient with you for admitting to your crimes].

[Kill him!] the Lappa crowed triumphantly. [Kill him and his companions!]

The outrage that rose from the crowd was like a storm that threatened to overwhelm everything they had built up on Laa'kuan, and Chi'in felt sadness envelop his heart as he prepared for the violence that would surely come. He wished there was something he could say, something he could do, to prevent it, but he felt that they had come too far for more lies. 

A movement by his side brought his attention on his two companions. Nuron, holding Luke in a tight embrace, was gazing at the young Jedi with pleading in her golden eyes, but Chi'in could see the determination in her lover's stance, and what was more, he could feel it like a sharp blade, poised to strike. Disengaging from Nuron, Luke turned toward the two people down on the floor, and spread his arms in an imploring gesture. 

"Hear me", he called out, his voice enhanced to reach everyone over the din. 

Gradually the crowd fell silent. Once he had their undivided attention, Luke lowered his arms again. His boyish looks seemed at odds with his resigned stance, that seemed to befit a much older man. But the strength in his very presence reached out to all present, and prompted them to listen. Finally he spoke again, addressing Nolyane directly, while Al'than'erudo kept on translating.

"Not your gods have punished you, Star Keeper," he began, wearily, and started toward the floor. "You were deluded into believing your gods had abandoned you, to lure you to Laa'kuan. And our meeting you there was no coincidence either." He stopped halfway down to the pit, and a voice from the crowd demanded:

[Who then destroyed our ships?]

[Yes!] Ishare Luvo picked up the call. [ Who?]

"A man. He is dead now, but I believe I know why he brought us together. Al'than'erudo has stated his intentions already. We have to stand together. We have to make peace at last, or we will all perish."

Chi'in felt his skin grow cold. _Bow to your gods, or perish._ Those had been Roj Kell's last words. They had taken on an entirely new meaning here. 

[You are only trying to save yourselves!] Ishare Luvo screamed. [You want to destroy us, just as you destroyed the Abernake!]

Luke ignored him. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Nolyane. The Noghri thought he understood why. The previous speech had confirmed that the Star Keeper was something of a spiritual leader not only for the Star People. All the peoples that had been attacked by Roj Kell seemingly had been part of the alliance that had worshipped their gods on Laa'kuan. That could have been no coincidence. 

[Silence], the Star Keeper said at last, and absolutely everyone fell quiet. [I have seen that man], she said. [I have witnessed his death. He had greatness, Ishare Luvo, something you seem to lack today. And he spoke for the gods.]

Luke felt his mind freeze at that. He remembered the strange words Kell had uttered, just before he had called for them to flee. Could it be that Nolyane had understood? What were the chances of that? Well, knowing Roj Kell, probably nothing had been left to chance on Laa'kuan. With mind-shattering clarity he understood then that he had not, in fact, killed the ancient Sith, that it had instead been Kell himself, who had chosen the time and manner of his death, who had given his sacrifice meaning. So damn cold. Luke wanted to be sick right then and there. But he managed to get his roiling stomach under control once more. 

[There is a legend from days long past], the Star Keeper continued, [of the Jen motha, the People of Death. We know their legends, we know their history. They were hunted by powerful enemies who sought to destroy them, and they came to Laa'kuan to make a last stand.] Nolyane heaved a gentle sigh. [Their leaders prayed for strength and courage and pledged their warriors to death to unite them and make them brave. They believed in the power of death so much that, when the enemy finally fell upon them, they fought so hard that the blood of their foes flowed like a great river. It is said that their blood carved the labyrinth you have seen on Laa'kuan. But the enemy's numbers were too great. The Jen motha were defeated. But then the gods revealed themselves to the Jen motha, and told them that, if they were to worship, they would be ever victorious, and survive.]

"Did they survive?" Luke asked quietly, once Al'than'eruod had finished translating for Chi'in and Nuron. 

Nolyane gave him a pained glance. [We do not know. The legends do not tell.] Her voice dropped very low as she continued, her eyes holding a secret she shared with him alone: [But I know that the man who died on Laa'kuan did not mean the Star People when he called for the Jen motha.]

__

Sacrifice your gods. Show me your heresy. Luke's head was spinning. Even though he had an inkling of what those words had meant he did not even want to go there and think about the depth of their meaning. It was too much. 

"Star Keeper", he whispered, "we have to be brave, like they were. But we must be sure of what we fight for."

[Life], she said, that simple word encompassing a myriard of emotions. 

Luke smiled. "Yes. Life", he agreed. "The Abernake were guardians of life, still are, and that is what we have to become too. What we have to live. To embrace life, and protect it. The prayer our hearts send out will determine the answer. I know you understand, all of you. I have seen your cities, your world. It is a prayer itself, the most beautiful there is. I ask you to let us join in that prayer."

Nolyane seemed struck speechless at his words. For a very long time silence reigned in the core of the spire, and every eye was turned on the young Jedi. He in turn, though, only continued gazing at the Star Keeper, confident that she would make the right choice. Finally she seemed to have reached a decision.

[It is said that one's actions will reflect on one's life. Once we take up the fight against the People of Death we must be aware of the consequences. I will not give up what we have build up, what my people has achieved here. We cannot change our way of life, Luke Skywalker. But], she added with a smile, [we know what we believe in. We believe in life, not death. We will help you.]

[No!] 

His head whipping around in surprise, Luke stared at Ishare Luvo, who was practically shaking with outrage. Nolyane regarded the Lappa coolly. 

[You disagree?] she asked.

[Yes! These people are unworthy! They are our enemies! I will not ally myself with my enemies!]

The Star Keeper turned her head to give the still kneeling Chiss, who had kept on translating throughout the past minutes, a very pensive glance. Then she turned toward Ishare Luvo once more. [I respect the customs of your people, Ishare Luvo. And you will respect ours. I call upon the Council of Hearts to solve your case.] A surprised gasp ran through the assembled crowd. Luke could sense the confusion in the commander when he rose tentatively from his kneeling position. [Prepare yourselves], Nolyane finished, and raised a hand in dismissal. [We will honor your decision.]

Luke stood dumb-founded, with his companions keeping silent beside him, as they all waited for the commander to join them. But Nolyane intercepted the Chiss before he could reach them and one of the Star People, Luke thought it was either Polay or Lusha, took him away.

"Star Keeper, what is that Council of Hearts?" Luke asked, feeling stupid. 

[We believe in life], she explained, [but Ishare Luvo believes in honor. He is a warrior. He will challenge Al'than'erudo to a duel. Their hearts must decide then, and once one of them has decided the other must follow that decision.] She gave Luke a reassuring pat. [Do not worry for your friend. He has a good heart.]

And with those words she left them alone in the rapidly empyting chamber. 

"I willl go and see after the commander," Chi'in announced, and gave both Luke and Nuron a curious glance. "I don't think I am needed here."

The Noghri left silently, like a shadow, and Luke watched him go thoughtfully. The Sith Lord had left everything to the two younger men to solve, and he had a feeling that Chi'in had done so on purpose. 

"He is still teaching you," Nuron whispered as she lay an arm around his neck and put her head to rest on his shoulder. Looking down into her golden eyes, Luke smiled tentatively.

"Yes," he answered softly. "Even though he may not realize it."

"So, have you found your peace?"

"He said that I would pay for every betrayal of my ideals. But I believe I do not have to betray them at all. With the right friends and allies I believe I can always remain true to what I want to be. And you are all helping me to gain the insight I need. Even Al'than'erudo." He gave a low chuckle. "I must be the luckiest man in the galaxy."

"You are special, Luke."

Gathering her slender body in his arms he held her close, relishing her presence. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You cannot know how much that means to me."

She smiled. "Of course I know. I feel the same. Luke," she began, hesitantly, and he thought he saw a flicker of worry flash across her eyes, "I learned something too."

He made his voice very soft when he asked: "What?" 

"That I want to be with you. All my life."

"I want that too, Nuron." Gently, he took her face in his hands and tilted her chin up, just a little bit, as he leaned forward to kiss her, wary of the sharp horns potruding from her brow. "I want you to marry me." Suddenly fearful, he drew his head back, blue eyes wide in innocent worry. "Will you?"

She shook her head with a laugh, her short black curls brushing over his fingers playfully. "That you doubt that!" Then her fierce eyes turned very soft. "Have I not pledged my love for you already?"

"Yes, you have," Luke answered with a relieved smile. "That's something else I am thankful for. But – " His mood darkened abruptly. "I hope my family is well, and I pray that I will see them again. If they were to die..."

"You will see them again," Nuron assured him quietly. "I know you will."

She snuggled closer, holding him tightly, and Luke felt so safe in her embrace that he found the calm he needed to ease his worries once more. His family had to be well. But with the threat of the Yuuzhan Vong still out there and ever-present, he had to weigh his wishes against reason. They had lost so many comrades already, and he doubted that the losses would stop before the Yuuzhan Vong were not stopped themselves. The future was uncertain, always moving, and he did not know what lay ahead. He did not know if he would survive, or Nuron, or his family. What he knew for certain, though, was that he wanted to be himself as hard as he could. No matter what. 

"Thank you." 

Waving Lusha away, Chi'in entered the small chamber the young warrior had led him to and took a look around. Ooonda was an enchanting world, in harmony, with a feel to it that reminded Chi'in of home. So many things reminded him of Honoghr lately, and he was wondering at that. Perhaps it was time for him to finally return for good. 

Al'than'erudo was seated cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed. His presence was calm, on the surface at least. He had shed the coat of his uniform, and a two-bladed knife lay in front of him. Apparently this was the only weapon he was allowed to use in the duel Nolyane had been talking about. Joining the younger man on the floor Chi'in regarded the other pensively.

"You have done very well," he said at last.

Al'than'erudo opened his eyes to look back at him. "You knew what I would do?"

"Yes. You have proven your insight when you decided to enter the level you are judging Luke Skywalker by. He offered you the truth, but you were blinded by hatred. I am glad you have shed that darkness."

"Luke Skywalker is a good man, I know that now. He did not mean to annihilate the fleet. He simply did not know what he was doing."

"He has learned from that mistake."

"But it is not his approval I seek."

Chi'in hesitated. He knew what the other was asking, and he had taught a few students in his lifetime. But to take on another when he could feel his soul ache for his home... He did not know if he could commit to taking on another apprentice right then. On the other hand this war was not over yet, not by a long shot, and Al'than'erudo was a willing student, who had already learned a lot. 

"Commander, I fear you do not fully understand," he began nevertheless. "If you choose to follow me you will leave your own culture. You will learn things your people would not approve of."

"Perhaps the galaxy is changing more than we can see now," the Chiss answered hoarsely. "Perhaps our culture will change."

"Perhaps," Chi'in conceded wearily. "With what Luke is planning to accomplish here that may well be."

A low hoot from the door caught their attention, and both Chi'in and Al'than'erudo rose to welcome the Star Keeper. She nodded at the Chiss gravely and beckoned for him to follow her. Chi'in kept a few paces back as they walked through the spire and entered a courtyard on the other side of the complex. Thousands of people lined the seats at the edges of the yard, and Chi'in was momentarily taken aback by the festive air that permeated the entire setting. He had not realized that this council would be such a public affair. Down in the yard Ishare Luvo was already waiting. He bore the same knife Al'than'erudo had tucked behind his belt, and he had assumed a confident, almost arrogant stance as he waited for the Chiss to join him. Chi'in hurried to find Luke and Nuron to watch. Once both combatants had entered the yard Nolyane climbed upon a dais of pale, yellow stone, beautifully carved, and the crowd fell silent. 

[We have assembled here to witness the decision of the Council of Hearts. Ishare Luvo has initiated the council, to prove Al'than'erudo's words lies. But this is not the only decision the council will decide. Luke Skywalker has asked the Star People, the Spider People, the Lappas and the Likkets to join an alliance against those who call themselves Yuuzhan Vong and seek to destroy us. As the one who has called that alliance a lie Ishare Luvo must prove his point.] She gave both men a nod. [The council may begin.]

It was, Chi'in thought, no fair fight. Al'than'erudo had the advantage in the fact that his innate Force-sensitivity allowed him to anticipate his adversary's moves, if erratically. The other advantage he had was reason. Ishare Luvo had already proven to be a hot-head, contrary to the Chiss. And so the fight ended with the first exchange. Al'than'erudo had left his knife tucked behind his belt, facing Ishare Luvo unarmed, a fact that did not seem to faze the Lappa at all. He thought he had an advantage in that he had more weapons than the other. Technically, he did not need the knife. His hands were weapons themselves. 

Yet he had decided to make use of his perceived advantage and lunged at the Chiss with a wild cry, the knife's two blades held in a horizontal grip that would allow him to disembowel the commander, if he got past his defenses. His right hand was extended like a spear, and Al'than'erudo used Luvo's unfortunate stance instantly. Side-stepping the knife, the commander forced his adversary to twist his body to still reach him, a position that left him unbalanced. The Chiss gave the Lappa's knife-arm a hard slap that bashed it into his free arm. In an instant Al'than'erudo had taken both Ishare Luvo's wrists in a hard grip, and simultaneously he kicked the other's legs out from underneath him, dropping him helplessly to the ground. Luvo's arms were still locked together when Al'th'erudo knelt down at his side, calmly dislodging his own knife from his belt. Extending it toward his downed adversary, he released the other. 

[Now], he said loud and clear. [Either join us or else kill me.]

Chi'in felt like laughing at hearing those words translated by a grinnning Luke. Al'than'erudo had already decided the fight, and Ishare Luvo really had no choice but to accept. The fact that he left it to him to decide diminished his adversary's honor. A deliberate move, but less than what Luvo deserved, to Chi'in's mind. 

[Do you always negotiate like this?] Ishare Luvo growled and rose. Holding his head high, he addressed Nolyane. [We will join the talks for this alliance Luke Skywalker has proposed.]

[The council has decided], Nolyane announced gravely. [We will begin the talks tonight.]

A few moments later she joined Chi'in, Nuron and Luke, a fascinated expression on her face. [I must admit that I have never before seen a warrior with such skills and such insight. He knew what the Council of Hearts signifies, didn't he?] 

Chi'in nodded solemnly, once Luke had translated for him. "It was not hard to uncover that meaning. You respect life. So does he, even in a more rational way than you do, perhaps."

Nolyane smiled once she had heard his words. [None of you is what he seems. Or she, for that matter. You achieve success with words were others would resort to violence. You are welcome on Ooonda. All of you.]

The Noghri felt strangely relieved at that. "Thank you," he answered. "We are honored. But, if it is possible, you said that you know the legends and history of the Jen motha. May I see them?"

The Star Keeper looked at him silently for a long time. When she spoke her tone was very reserved. [This is no time to concern yourself with death, Chi'in. You should celebrate with us.]

"Celebrate? What is there to celebrate?" he replied wearily. "There is a war going on out there. I must know how we can put an end to this killing."

[Not today], she admonished him gently. [Tomorrow.]

"All right then," the Noghri agreed, defeated. "Tomorrow."

They lay in the soft grass, gazing at the stars above. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze made the leaves of the surrounding trees rustle quietly. Nuron's head rested against his stomach, and his left hand lay on her cheek, relishing in the smooth warmth of her skin. He could hear her regular breathing, and could almost hear her heart beat, a quiet drum in the night. It was perfect.

"So peaceful," she whispered. "I've been missing this."

"It's been too long," he agreed just as quietly. "It seems as if we have not had one quiet moment in ages."

"Months, at the very least," she answered with a soft chuckle as she turned around on her stomach to face him, and her golden eyes caught the distant light of the moon, turning them into twin suns of mystery. 

Luke smiled, feeling completely at ease. "Perfect," he said. "This is perfect." His thumb ran along the corner of her mouth tenderly. "I wish it could always be like this."

"You're a dreamer, Luke Skywalker," she murmured and moved to kiss his palm once. "You know it cannot always be perfect. Perfect is boring," she added thoughtfully.

"Then why do we always seek perfection? Can you tell me?"

"A matter of ambition," she answered after a while. "If all you desire is a quiet life, I suppose there are many ways to achieve it. But if your dreams are bigger ... Then you will never be at peace," she finished, her voice suddenly sounding forced. 

Luke felt his own mood darken. She was right. If one dreamed of perfection on a larger scale one would always be searching, never content. No matter how much one invested, no matter how much one suffered. Lips compressed into a thin line he propped himself up on his elbows to look at her. 

"I think you're wrong," he stated. 

She gave him a look of mock indignation. "Challenge me, would you?" But she turned serious again quickly. "I know what you mean. If you have someone to support you, to strengthen your resolve, you may realize that your struggle is a futile one. That there are limits."

"Not limits," he whispered, "but rather no perfection. Perfection is an ideal we create for ourselves. I know what I want to do, and sometimes I think I can never achieve it. But I must keep on trying, or else I will never find out, right?"

Nuron gave him a long, silent look. Finally she shrugged, and snuggled against him once more. "It's your life" she grumbled into his shirt. "You can do whatever you want, as long as you know what that is."

Smiling, Luke leaned back again into the grass. That was just typical of her. She was a pragmatic, and he was a dreamer. "Good," he whispered to himself, satisfied. "Then that's settled."

When she started laughing at his innocently preposterous statement he could not hold back his own mirth for long. Their laughter lifted into the warm night of Ooonda, and vanished into the sky above. And for a perfect moment everything seemed to be all right.

The quarters she had been given were sparse and, of course, guarded, but that was not what concerned Yana the most. She hated being left in the dark about everything, hated not having the information she needed to regain her composure and her wits. Right after her capture she had been brought aboard this ship, along with Roganda, who had been hustled away to join the shapers, as far as Yana had understood. Hah Kima had stayed behind on Byss, along with Franzis Sarreti. Yana could only guess at the counselor's fate.

The Empress' hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of the traitorous moff, and she cursed her father whole-heartedly for his sick powerplays. How dare he! How dare he mock her this way! Always a step ahead of everyone, that was what had pleased him most, oh yes. Not only had he made her believe that she was leading a life independent from his court and its disgusting, boot-licking, scheming courtiers, he had also made certain that she would walk exactly the path he had prepared for her. For a moment she wondered whether her flight to the Corporate Sector had also been calculated by that manipulating old corpse.

Uncertainty hung above her resolve for a moment, a sharp blade of doubt that threatened to shred her confidence into pieces, but then she dismissed those suspicions again. She had been a spoiled girl when she had left Coruscant, and who would expect a girl of sixteen to choose the Corporate Sector as the playground for fulfilling her adventurous fantasies? Not her father, that she knew. He might have expected her to flee to Corellia, or even Nar Shadaa, where the Empire's hold was strong. But she had anticipated that. And she had learned so much out there ...

But nothing she knew of her wilder days would be of any use to her now. She had no means to fight back safe for her mind and her knowledge of the Empire. It was clear to her that the Yuuzhan Vong were only keeping her around because of her status. She was, after all, Empress, and the daughter of the late Emperor, Hah Kima's master. There had to be something she could do to turn this situation to her advantage. Something ...

The 'door' to her quarters opened and a guard came in, motioning for her to follow. Composing herself, Yana strode after him. Her shoulder was still hurting from the intitial attack, but she had used a healing technique to stop the bleeding. Her command of the Force may be feeble, but there were some areas she had managed to exploit. Perhaps now she would be introduced to her mistress, the priestess Alyn Cha. She remembered the conversation between Roj Kell and the Grand Admiral she had witnessed what seemed like years ago. The old man had pointed out the most important gods of these aliens back then, and Yana recalled one of them, Yun-Harla, she believed that goddess was called. Perhaps this meant that only female priests worshipped that goddess, and that Alyn Cha was one of them.

If she had understood correctly this Yun-Harla was a deceptive goddess, and this begged the question whether the sect following her was comparable to Intelligence. If so, Yana Dar was an expert at dealing with information. She smiled inwardly at the very thought of leading those cursed creatures into traps and deadly ambushes. Always a step ahead, that was the most important rule not only in warfare, but also in the business of brokering information. Her features froze, when she realized that she might have to do something she had always been loath to do. 

She would have to think like her father.

Roganda tried to bite back the tears that seemed to flow constantly. But the pain was excrutiating, unlike anything she had ever experienced. And she was acutely aware of the alien organism that had been implanted in her skin to allow her to understand her captors. A tyzoworm, they called it, and somehow it translated their words for her and preformulated her own words in the language of the Yuuzhan Vong, so she only needed to repeat them. They wanted her to help them understand Imperial and New Republic technology, especially reproductive technology. But she did not know much, she only had a basic grasp of cloning techniques, and apart from that she only knew how to grow a being naturally. But that did not interest them. They did not seem to be interested in _anything_ natural. 

She was disgusted at that, unable to understand how anyone would accept an implant to gain the special hands of a shaper. But they did not have any concept of tools. Their tools were living creatures. And now she was one too. The shaper who had been assigned as her controller, that was what one called the one who oversaw a certain tool, was a male by the name of Ly Sul. He called her Roganda, and he treated her well, as long as she tried her best to serve and supply him with the information he needed. If she did not know something he would continue questioning her until he had satisfied himself that she indeed knew nothing. All he wanted, he said, was that she made her best effort at assisting him. 

Now, huddled in a corner of what she thought of as his laboratory, Roganda watched him experiment with an organism that he claimed might one day be able to imitate a laser. It was an almost peaceful moment, but Roganda was trembling with uncertainty. She had no idea what had happened to Yana Dar, who had been brought aboard with her. But they had been seperated, and she had not seen the Empress again. Perhaps she was all alone with those monsters... The very thought frightened her. It helped to hope that Yana was alive and somewhere on board the ship, that she was within reach somehow. If she were not ... A movement by the door caught her attention. She recognised the female who stood just inside the doorway, but the male with her was unfamiliar. He was tall, and ugly, and he wore what looked like a red cloak of sorts. Once Ly Sul became aware of the newcomers he hurried over to the door and bowed deeply. 

"Warmaster Marayl Carr, how may I serve?"

"May we enter?" Marayl Carr asked back.

"Certainly."

The Warmaster threw a glance at the woman sitting in the corner. "Ah. One of the captured infidel. She is useful?"

"She is insufficient. We will need someone else, one of their own shapers preferably. Her knowledge is pitiful."

"Then why keep her?"

"Only until I have a replacement for her." 

Roganda thought her ears might pop at hearing this. A replacement? 

"Good. I will see to it that you get one, Shaper. But I have a different request." Marayl Carr dropped a strange-looking creature in Ly Sul's long-fingered hands. "The infidel blood contained within this one needs to be examined. Priestess Alyn Cha tells me this creature is a Jedi?" He nodded at Roganda casually.

"Yes. Not very powerful, as Hah Kima reported."

"I want you to compare her blood to this one's. He was a priest, and he swore to destroy us." 

Ly Sul gave a nervous laugh. "I do not assume he survived to make that threat come true."

"No. He died honorably, but I believe he may have been more than was apparent. Priestess Alyn Cha will uncover information about him for us."

"Better if you had captured him alive," Ly Sul muttered under his breath.

"You question me?" the Warmaster asked in a low, dangerous whisper. "This infidel was sacrificed to appease Yun-Yammka, who is displeased with our lack of success. _My_ lack of success. You will assist me in any way you can to ensure that I achieve victory for the Yuuzhan Vong, Shaper. Now."

Yana was ushered into another set of rooms, and she noticed the female seated at the back of the antechamber instantly. So, this was Alyn Cha. She was a stately apeparance, with sharp, pale features that were enhanced by decorative scars. Her head sloped back to form a crest of black hair, and she wore a robe of living tissue that appeared fluorescent. Yana stared before she slowly let herself be walked closer.

"Yana Dar," the priestess said pleasantly, her voice a little bit hoarse as it formed around the unfamiliar words. 

"How do you do that?" the Empress asked back, curious. "How do you learn our language so fast?"

"We do not learn, Yana Dar. We have tools to supply us with the meaning and sound of your words."

Yana nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. "I see. May I take a seat?"

The priestess gazed at her for a while, keeping silent. In the end she motioned for Yana to sit on the floor. Hesitating only for a heart-beat the Empress settled down on the deck, arranging her dress around herself elegantly. 

"You are a leader of these infidels," Alyn Cha began, but Yana interrupted her. 

"These infidels are my people, not 'these' or 'they'. Or should I call your people simply 'Vong'?"

Alyn Cha seemed momentarily taken aback. "You have not yet earned respect or honor," she stated at last, her voice cold. "Better have a care."

"As if you could give me one or both," the Empress snorted.

"You are defiant. Perhaps I will teach you respect and understanding before I sacrifice you to the goddess. That sacrifice will be well received, I believe. You are a leader, you are brave and cunning, as Hah Kima tells me. Surely the goddess will be pleased."

"So she is not pleased now? Does she withhold her wisdom from you?"

Alyn Cha stared at her. "You know much," she murmured. "How?"

"Someone told me. Someone who knows your people well. He told me about your gods, your philosophy which, frankly, I find disgusting. You do not accomplish anything by yourselves. You are insufficient creatures."

The priestess smiled. "So you think yourself above us, infidel?"

"No. I think that you are beneath me," Yana corrected her. 

"Tell me about this someone who knows so much about us. Was he a priest, perhaps?"

Yana suddenly had a very bad feeling. "You have met a priest?" she asked back, tentatively.

"Warmaster Marayl Carr has met him. That priest did not give him his name, unfortunately. He died honorably."

"A priest?" Yana repeated, confused. 

"He threatened the Warmaster. Ridiculous, since he knew he was dying. He also seems to have been a Jedi," Alyn Cha concluded, her black eyes fixed on the Empress' paling face. "You knew him," she finished. "Or else you would not be so afraid now."

"Afraid?" Yana answered weakly and she even managed a small laugh. "If he was who I think he was you are underestimating him greatly."

Could it have been him? She could not quite believe it. Roj Kell was a survivor, always had been. Why would he choose to die now? But what if he was dead? She had wished for him to die, she had even sent a bounty-hunter to kill him. Which prompted the question of what had happened to Boba Fett. Had Kell eliminated him? Her head was spinning as she tried frantically to put some order into the chaos of her mind. But how to play this new information?

"Who was he, then?" Alyn Cha interrupted her at last.

"A dangerous man. Very dangerous. I congratulate your Warmaster on this sacrifice," Yana replied haughtily, assuming the arrogant, patronising tone her father had used, and that she had hated so much. "But I fear he has made a grave mistake in killing him."

"Why? If he was so dangerous, better to have him dead."

"No. Dangerous he might have been, but his knowledge might have allowed you to win this war you are losing now."

"What do you mean?" the priestess demanded, suddenly sounding doubtful.

"This man was the oldest being this galaxy has ever seen. His knowledge is infinite. Or was, I should say." Yana shrugged with an ease she did not really feel. "Too bad your Warmaster decided to kill him. He might have been of use to you, Priestess. The most devious and cunning among our warriors, who has defeated more enemies than you ever will, who has toppled empires and destroyed entire cultures. His knowledge was priceless. Of course, now that he is dead that information is of no use to you."

The priestess snarled a curse in her native tongue. "Marayl Carr," she hissed. 

"By the way," Yana added casually, "he was also the one who destroyed the cloning facilities on Byss."

"Roj Kell," Alyn Cha breathed. "Your counselor has given me that name. But he kept the rest back." Suddenly intrigued, the priestess leaned closer toward the Empress. "Why did he do that?"

Yana suppressed a shiver. So it was true. "He despised machinery and artificial life. He killed his own son, who had been artificially created from his blood because he offended him." She refrained from adding that he had hated the Yuuzhan Vong's biomechanical designs even more.

"It would seem that this infidel had a true understanding of our culture," Alyn Cha mused aloud. "He might have joined our cause."

"Unfortunately he is dead now." 

Yana shuddered at the very thought. Even though she did not believe one minute that Kell would have joined the Yuuzhan Vong, she imagined what it would have been like, and suddenly she felt grateful for his death. A terrible thing to think, but she needed to take care of herself now, of her own people. No time to mourn one more casualty. Especially not the man who had killed her brother. Even though she and her allies could have made good use of the ancient Sith's knowledge too. Her mind congealed into a mass of cold reason. The Seeker. They had the Seeker! Feeling like laughing out loud she let her spirit rejoice in triumph. 

Now she had a tool to play off Alyn Cha against the Warmaster, and a chance to show the priestess how they played the game here. Contrary to Alyn Cha she knew her allies and knew them well enough to be able to predict their actions to some extent. But – what if the priestess decided to have her questioned, tortured, perhaps? Would she be as brave as Sarreti, refuse to yield to the pain? Yana was not certain. But then she remembered the vow she had made in her chambers back on Byss, and her resolve was restored. She would fight to the death and beyond. 

A cruel smile appeared on her lips. Roj Kell never would have let the Warmaster kill him if he had not seen a purpose in his death. And, knowing Kell, he would have devised a plan that would doom his enemies even should they manage to defeat him. It had always been like this. Why should it be different now that he was dead? Yana's smile deepened. 

__

You see, Father, I have learned, she thought._ I have learned to second-guess you, and I have learned to play by your rules. Now we shall see who will win this. You or I._

Mara was powering up their ship's engines, impatiently waiting for Jix to finally join her in the cockpit. He was still down on the landing pad, discussing last minute details with Talon Karrde. The information broker had only given them a short summary of the results the Seeker's analysis had yielded, and Mara was anxious to get the ship into hyperspace and read the full report. This should be interesting. She was also wondering what the princess would have to say to this mess. Now that they knew both aspects of the old man's strategy they could fine-tune their response to what he had planned for the Unknown Regions. Lando Calrissian would postpone the relocation of the program and its equipment, until this was sorted out, which, of course, meant a greater risk of their enemies finding out about the Seeker's hideaway. 

__

Dear me, how convenient. 

Smiling to herself, the former Emperor's Hand pondered the implications of the program's prognosis. So they would have to count on their enemies to use saboteurs and spies to aid them, especially now that they would experience the full brunt of the Allied Forces' backlash. An image rose in her mind, of a low-g-hockey match, the two major players for the home team guiding the ball toward the enemy goal with exact precision and breathtaking skill. She really would have enjoyed having a front-row seat to that match, but she had a feeling that she and Jix would be playing on another field. Byss.

"Put your foot down on the thrusters, baby, we're on our way!" Jix announced as he rushed into the cockpit and dropped into the co-pilot's seat beside her.

"This is no swoop bike, Jix," she reminded him, amused. "Have you secured the hatch?"

"Sure thing. Let's get out of here. We'll tell Page the hard facts once Her Ladyship has dropped the bomb."

"If she does at all," Mara reasoned, as she guided the ship toward the distant edge of Nar Shadaa's atmosphere.

"Now's as good a time as any. And Mon Mothma is the last to know, after all."

"The Empress has vanished and the Confederate Zone is fighting a war for us. Not the most convenient time to convene that council."

"Wrong. It is the most convenient one. Hah Kima wants a war council? He can have it, no problem. How should he know that he'll be the only one left out of the game?"

"Karrde told you, didn't he?" she asked sweetly, for this was first-grade thinking for the brash Corellian. He did not bother with politics and finer tactics, usually. 

"How did you know?"

"Female intution," she said and then the ship began the long journey through hyperspace.

The Star Destroyer Freedom reached Coruscant without complications, and both Leia and Padmé felt relieved to be back from the front for once. Mother and daughter were received instantly by the President of State and her staff, and Leia noticed to her satisfaction that Telmann Page was also present. 

"All right," Mon Mothma began without preamble, "what do we need to know before we address the Senate?"

Leia shared a questioning glance with her mother, before she turned back to answer: "Well, the Confederate Zone's foundation is irreversible. Even if we try to hush this up somehow, I doubt Admiral Piett will go along with us. Graver than this, though, is the fact that the Empire has been attacked. As I already reported, Byss has been invaded. Hah Kima has regained control of the planet once more and driven the enemy troops back, but the Empress is missing, along with her counselor, Franzis Sarreti. I have reassured Moff Kima that we will grant any assistance he needs."

"Excellent," the president stated. "We will convene a council of war immediately, and I want the following nations to send representatives: The Empire, the Confederate Zone and the Chiss. Padmé. You will be responsible for our diplomatic corps and keep our local governments informed. We are not officially at war, though. So far these Yuuzhan Vong have not attacked New Republic space, and even though I know they probably will in the near future, I do not want to cause a panic. We must reassure our Senators. Leia," she addressed the princess. "What news from the front?"

"Lord Skywalker reports Nirauan secure. I assume he will rejoin his forces with the Grand Admiral at Almashin. The Alliance have seemingly regained the offensive."

"But the enemy has attacked Imperial Space, and the Confederate Zone," Mon Mothma reasoned. "How do you explain that?"

"Lord Skywalker left the Star Destroyer Freedom at Bilbringi for exactly that eventuality. He feared that the enemy might be pushed coreward in a battle at Nirauan. I cannot explain the choice of target concerning Byss, though. I would ask our military experts to solve this riddle."  


"Of course. Anything else we should know?"

Leia nodded. "Yes. Talon Karrde will be providing us with information on the enemy. I would treat this fact as confidential."

"Information?" The president frowned. "Where does that information come from?"

"A reliable source." 

Inwardly she winced at that. Roj Kell was hardly a reliable source. They could only hope that the Seeker-program had not been outfitted with the ancient Sith Lord's deviousness. Talon Karrde had promised her a detailed report, but he had not wanted to send it over the Holonet. So she would have to wait for Jix and Mara to arrive from Nar Shadaa first. Until then, though she had more than enough to do. 

"Do we have any news from Luke Skywalker?"

Startled, Leia gazed at Telmann Page, who had posed the question. "Excuse me, I was 

not – ," she began, but regained her composure quickly. "My brother has not reported to anyone over the past weeks. I – I do not know where he is, but I am certain that he is alive." She gave her mother a reassuring look, but she could sense the older woman's sorrow and worry easily. 

"Very well," Mon Mothma told them. "Leia, you will prepare an announcement for the Senate. Padmé, please see to the diplomatic arrangements. General Page, you will contact Captain Karrde."

"Yes, Ma'am," the general replied pleasantly. "I would ask both the Princess and Her Ladyship to make themselves available for detailed questioning."

"Of course," Leia assured him, but her mother's answer did not come.

"My lady?" Page asked, sounding taken aback.

"What? Questioning? Of course. As soon as I have put some order into this mess."

Leia smiled at her mother's words. It would take more than just her to put things straight again. But with Father out of reach Padmé was the one who held all hidden strings in her hands. It was her Talon Karrde reported to, and her who would direct Leia, Jix and Mara. Leia would remain at the diplomatic front here on Coruscant, shielding her mother's activities from prying eyes. But everything not directly tied to official New Republic sources depended on her mother now. Still looking at that angelic face, almost untouched by the long years, Leia felt a warmth spread throughout her heart that was soothing and strengthening at the same time. Her family would manage. They had survived so much, and they would deal with this, too.

TBC


	32. Chapter 31- Return of the Sith

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Chapter 31 – Return of the Sith

Guided by a flight of clawcraft the Millennium Falcon descended toward its assigned landing platform at Almashin's governmental port. It was night above the capital Anmedra, and as Han guided the ship down, Anakin took his time in studying the city's layout. The lights formed straight lines that ran from the city-center outward, or inward, like the image of a star. The melancholic mood he had found himself in ever since the last battle on Nirauan had not faded away. On the contrary. He felt as if something was amiss, as if a part of himself had gone away somehow. But he clung desperately to what he had told Padmé not so long ago. She could fill him with life again, could make his heart beat once more. He wished fervently that she were here with him now. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat just as the freighter touched down gently. 

"Are you all right?" Han, seated at the controls, asked quietly.

"I try," Anakin replied gruffly and clumsily opened his flight harness with his remaining hand to rise. "But it is damn hard to keep calm when I know that we're on the very verge of a catastrophe."

"Thrawn will manage," the Corellian tried to reassure him.

"Perhaps he will. But the balance we have achieved now is so very fragile. It could tip either way."

"But you have to admit that our chances are better than before," Han insisted.

"We shall see. I still don't know what the Yuuzhan Vong are truly after. They attacked Bilbringi, yes, but why? To test our defenses? I do not think so. This is no conquest, Han, this is a game." 

"You're good at games."

Anakin smiled at the younger man. "Only if I know the rules."

Han, who had powered down the ship and moved to join him at the door, shrugged. "You could always bluff, until you know what you're at."

"Takes too much time. I need to know now."

"What about this Cor'dan business? Doesn't that help?"

"It does. But in all the wrong ways," Anakin whispered as he palmed the door open. "I know how they think, but what they are doing runs contrary to that knowledge. They aren't using the tactics I am expecting them to use. They should have tried to crush us, but instead they only launched planet-changing organisms."

"My lord," Andarack, who had appeared noiselessly before them, bowed deeply. "An escort has arrived. They request your presence with the Council of Syndic."

"All right. "

The three of them made their way toward the entry hatch, where General Sa'lym'a and Voss Parck were already waiting. Nodding at the two commanders, Anakin stepped down onto the landing platform and waved wearily at Naas Deron and Puket to join them. The two Sith warriors had flown their modified clawcraft here, and that for a good reason. Anakin planned on using those further. They followed their escort into the governmental building, a complex of simple elegance the Dark Lord found intriguing. Passing a wide courtyard, they proceeded toward the meeting hall. 

Inside the grand chamber Syndic Bal'maw'narda was already waiting for them, surrounded by the rest of the council. A young Chiss wearing the olive uniform of the Chiss navy stood a bit apart, his arms crossed behind his back. What Anakin noticed immediately about the man was his strength in the Force. His presence was fairly glowing. Intrigued, the Dark Lord kept an eye on the young man as he neared the council. But once he had come within a few meters of the senior Chiss leaders he stopped and performed a small, respectful bow.

"Lord Skywalker, General Sa'lym'a, Admiral Parck," Syndic Bal'maw'narda said pleasantly. "We welcome your presence here in these trying times. Your companions?"

"Captain Han Solo of New Republic Intelligence and Andarack clan Rim'kai," Anakin replied.

"He does bear a resemblance to Master Chi'in," the old Chiss commented.

"Chi'in clan Rim'kai is my great-uncle," Andarack explained. 

"I see. Welcome, both of you. And Ambassador Naas Deron. I am pleased to see you again, you and your companion."

The icy edge in the Syndic's words were unmistakable, and Naas Deron reacted instantly. "My apologies for having left so abruptly, Syndic, and without explanations. Dire business called me away," he explained.

"So it would seem," Bal'maw'narda replied graciously. "Very well. Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo has sent a messenger to give us an update on his progress, and of course that report is available for you, Lord Skywalker. I might add beforehand that the Syndic requests your presence with his secondary task force. They will be awaiting you at Lounia."

"Excellent," Anakin breathed. "I trust the fleet is progressing well?"

"Apparently that is the case. I will also entrust Commander Al'than'erudo to you before he leaves us to travel to Coruscant." Here the Syndic indicated the young Chiss Anakin had noted previously. 

Turning toward the commander, the Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully. "I remember Admiral Parck telling me that my son and Nuron Sarin were to join your command. I do not see them here with you –"

"Your son is well," the Commander hurried to assure him. "Both he and Nuron Sarin are well."

"Then where are they, if I may ask?"

"They are safe and will rejoin us in a week at the latest. They are currently on a world called Ooonda, where Master Skywalker is leading negotiations on behalf of the New Republic alliance."

"Chi'in clan Rim'kai?"

"He is also alive, and on another mission to aid us."

Anakin drew a deep breath that was both relief and joy. "Good. Then I will hear your detailed report, Commander, and have a look at the one Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo has sent."

Al'than'erudo gave him a small nod. "As you wish."

Han felt slightly uncomfortable, having a feeling that he was somehow being left out of the picture. Of course, Anakin had given him an update on the situation here in the Unknown Regions, but he knew that he himself would have asked a lot more questions. The Dark Lord, though, simply sat in an adjoining room and quietly read the report Thrawn's messenger had brought to Anmedra a few days ago. Meanwhile Andarack and Al'than'erudo were conversing in the other corner of the room they shared with Han, as all three waited for Anakin to finish and question the commander. Undoubtedly the Noghri would be asking after his great-uncle or something. When finally his future father-in-law entered the room once more Han was relieved to see a smile on the older man's face. 

"Better?" he asked casually, and Anakin nodded.

"Much better. And I won't be needing you here. You may return to Coruscant if you wish."

"Really? You sure?" the Corellian asked, but only out of courtesy. Even though he felt a certain pull of the adventure that undoubtedly lay ahead of the rest of the team, his desire to be with Leia gained the upper hand easily. 

"I am very certain. And I want you to tell her and Padmé that the council will be convened as we have planned. You will take Commander Al'than'erudo with you, as representative of the Chiss Empire. You can pick up one of Piett's staff on the way."

Han's face fell. "Oh. Okay." If he gave Leia that message she would undoubtedly be very busy indeed. Well, it could not be helped, and he would rather be with her, no matter how much she had to do, than stay out here and twiddle his thumbs. 

"Good. That's settled then."

"What will you two be doing?" he asked, nodding at Andarack.

"We will join the Grand Admiral's secondary task force, just as he requested, along with Naas Deron and Puket."

"And that's all I get to know, I suppose," Han commented drily. "Shouldn't you get that repaired first?" he added, pointing at the Dark Lord's missing forearm. Anakin looked down, seemingly surprised.

"Hm? Oh, that. No, not yet, I think. Perhaps when we're with the fleet I'll find the time."

"Who's leading that task force? Needa?"

"Yes. I will take over part of the operations once we're on board, though. A change of tactics to confuse the enemy."

"How're you going to change those tactis, then?" the Corellian asked with a mischievous grin at seeing Anakin's blue eyes shine with anticipation.

"Ever heard of an explosive force?"

"Not in so many words."

Anakin laughed. "Well," he explained, "it just means that we'll give them some nasty surprises."

"Oh. Good." Han's smile wavered. "Just be careful, okay? I know a few people who want you back in one piece."

Looking at him pensively, the Dark Lord kept silent for a while. "I will come back," he said at last. 

Somehow Han felt that there was more to the other's words, but he did not question further. He remembered Leia's plea, to keep an eye on her father. She had even claimed that Anakin needed him. But apparently the Dark Lord saw that differently.

"Well," he said at last. "I'll be with the Falcon. Commander, you can join me anytime you're finished here."

  
"Thank you, Captain Solo. I shall be with you shortly."

Just before the door closed behind him Han could hear Anakin ask: "And now you will tell me exactly where you have been."

Grand Admiral Thrawn sat brooding over a star chart, tracing his fleet's progress in their current operation. His task force was in transit from Immeria to Ju'lal, insignificant worlds with next to no population. But Almashin and Csilla had reported that they'd lost contact to the colonists living there, and the Grand Admiral had reasoned correctly that the enemy might have already invaded those worlds to establish outposts of their own. They had found no survivors on Immeria, only a strange change in the planet's vegetation. The Yuuzhan Vong troops stationed there had stood no chance against the Admiral's Star Destroyers, and again Needa's tactics had taken care of their star fighters. Thrawn smiled a bit to himself. If Needa was keeping to their time-table the fleets would be passing one another exactly – now. The secondary task force would make another strafing run at Immeria, to verify the primary task force's success. Then they would continue to Lounia, where the Dark Lord would join them, hopefully. 

He had decided to have the two task forces criss-cross each other's path, to confuse the enemy as well as to maximize their efficiency. This way none of them had to remain at a given target for too long, and should one of their fleet's – against all expectations – become trapped, the other would still be able to continue the offensive. The two task forces were made up of exactly the same ship-types and numbers, so no distinction would be possible at a cursory glance from the enemy. Plus, he and Needa had different styles in deploying their troops, so the enemy commanders would not be able to make accurate predictions at this point. Additionally, he had sent messengers both to Csilla and Almashin to rally the remaining task forces to them. The closer his forces came to the heart of the Chiss Empire, the more ships would join them, and the more ships would be available for defense.

Undoubtedly a messenger would be waiting for him at Ju'lal. They had ceased transmitting reports, since they had no way of telling whether the enemy could intercept and decypher those or not. Of course there was also a risk in using messengers. Should one of them become captured, though, the commanding officer would know, and plot a new way and strategy until he could contact his fellow commander again. Thrawn was well aware of the fact that the enemy would at one point recognize the pattern in his strategy, and a confrontation was inevitable. Perhaps it would even happen at Ju'lal. 

He had instructed Needa to be ever vigilant and trust no one and nothing. Even though strictly speaking they were working together, each was also on his own. That independence had to remain for now, until Thrawn could determine a new strategy. The flaw in the current tactics was, that he had no idea how the enemy was reacting to his advance, since he left no troops behind on the liberated worlds. There were probes, yes, but they were in no way as responsive as a sentient would be. Well, this was unfortunate, but could not be changed for now. Still, the Grand Admiral had had enough opportunity to study the enemy's tactics, and that, in addition to what information he had gained from Roj Kell, was sufficient to plot for the next few exchanges. 

The Yuuzhan Vong would force a stand, would want to deliver a crushing blow to the Chiss defenses. All he had to do was to offer a target. But that was not so easy a choice. Looking up from the star chart, the Grand Admiral gazed into the distance pensively. This enemy was cunning, and through long years of conquest also commanded a sound strategical and tactical knowledge. Yet the one flaw they had was their reliance on living organisms. That was the other aspect of his strategy. With his maneuvers he did not give the enemy a chance to establish long-term bases and no chance to rest or recover. If they did not want to lose they had to chase after his ships or else watch their newly conquered worlds slip out of their grasp again one by one. 

The goal for both combatants was to annihilate the other. There was no other choice. Unfortunately the Grand Admiral had the nagging feeling that they had not yet seen the full range of the Yuuzhan Vong's weaponry. He smiled grimly to himself. _But we are learning something new every day, are we not?_

He stood at the viewport of the small room he had used as a refuge to find some solitude to study the Grand Admiral's orders and report, watching the Millennium Falcon rise toward the upper atmosphere of Almashin. Han and Al'than'erudo would make a stop-over at Bilbringi to pick up a representative of the Confederate Zone to join the War Council on Coruscant that Mon Mothma would propose at Leia's suggestion. Only a short jump seperated Bilbringi from the New Republic's capital, and he suspected that not only Han would be overjoyed at his returning to Coruscant. Leia and Padmé would have reached the glowing planet by now, and informed the president of what was currently happening out at the border to the Empire and the Unknown Regions. And Al'than'erudo would complement their report with his on the Unknown Regions themselves. 

Anakin could see it all spread out before his inner eye, could speculate on Mon Mothma's reaction, Padmé's course of action, yet he had a hard time ignoring the heart-ache that had replaced his melancholy once he had learned of the source of his inexplicable dark mood. Al'than'erduo had not seen Roj Kell die himself, but he had heard Chi'in's and Luke's account of the execution, and had relayed the details to the Dark Lord during his initial report. So he was truly dead. The memories of their last meeting on Nirauan became painful now, and Anakin scolded himself for not having realized earlier what his accepting the ancient Sith's gift had truly meant. Yet he had always clung to the truth of the old man's existence, that he was a survivor, that he had lasted for three thousand years already, and was not easily killed, as he had proven time and time again

But now he was dead.

Anger flared in his mind as he recalled the events Al'than'erduo had described to him, the cruelty with which Kell had broken Luke's ideals to forge them into something stronger; the cold calculation with which he had forced the boy to watch his death. _How dare he!_ The promise he had made to Padmé what seemed like ages ago again made itself known, that he would not let the old Sith scar his children the way he had scarred their mother's very soul. He had failed. But Luke had his own shields, Anakin knew, his unfaltering belief in the good of people, his innocence and idealism. He would prevail, as he had proven already on the world called Ooonda. Al'than'erudo for one had seemed very impressed with the young man's resolve and insight. Anakin smiled all of a sudden. He had always known that it would not be his deeds that would found a new order, and now he had the confirmation for that knowledge. 

The Sith were returning.

His heart-ache struck him with a bitter-sweet note as he realized that he had been fighting the inevitable for no reason at all, that it was not even his decision that had truly ended the legacy of the Jedi, even though in the past he had done his best to eradicate that order. He shivered at the memories. Yet Luke did not know the truth, he had no knowledge of the ancient times, he was merely following his instinct. 

"Lord Skywalker?"

Turning around abruptly, Anakin gave Syndic Bal'maw'narda a questioning glance. "Yes?"

"You transport stands ready. I wanted to inform you personally. You seem – troubled." The aged Chiss walked over to the table to take a seat on the single chair. He regarded the Dark Lord thoughtfully, but there was also a hint of expectation lurking in his glowing eyes. "You have doubts in the Grand Admiral's strategy?"

"Doubts?" Anakin gave a low chuckle. "Not, not at all. Forgive me if my absent-mindedness scared you, Syndic, but I am confident that together we will be able to weather this crisis." 

"Yet you suspect a traitor to work against us."

"Yes." He nodded gravely. "It is better to guard against all eventualities than experience some nasty surprise."

"Which is why you requested General Sa'lym'a to join the court on Csilla?"

"Indeed. His experience will be valuable to the Emperor and the defenses of the capital."

Bal'maw'narda inclined his head in agreement. "Yes. I must admit that ever since this war started I have been hard-pressed to keep up with the ever-changing implications of this struggle." He gave Anakin a hard look. "Once this is over nothing will be the same again."

Anakin kept silent for a while. Would it be so different from the past? "Things are always changing, Syndic. Stability can only be achieved through change. If it does not come about willingly, only then chaos will spread. And yet," he added with a smile, "a wise man once said that there is order in chaos. One ony has to know which chances to take."

"What chance would you advise me to take, then?" the Chiss asked quietly. 

"You said it yourself, things are changing. We are moving into another era, and perhaps we should stop looking to the past for guidance and instead focus on the future now."

"There is much to learn from the past," Bal'maw'narda offered quietly.

Anakin smiled, remembering all the lessons he had been put through, all the catastrophes and challenges that had forced him to grow in many ways. 

"The past," he replied quietly, "can merely offer guidelines. But ultimately the past is as much of a mystery as the future, and the only way to go on is to trust your present needs and measure your future by your own ideals."

Padmé stared at the report that Mara had printed out on hard flimsiplast, feeling somehow left out of the picture. The agent sat across from her, a bored expression on her face, as she waited for Padmé to acknowledge the importance of the thing. Importance! If they'd had this beforehand ...

"I assume Talon Karrde will do his best to confirm these predictions?" she asked quietly, still studying the words in front of her.

"Sure. He never leaves things to chance."

"Good. According to this we will not have much trouble in the Unknown Regions."

"If you call a wholesale massacer not much trouble, you're probably right," Mara countered drily.

"You know what I mean. What about Nar Shadaa?"

"What about it?"

"They will try to get the Seeker, won't they?"

"It may sound strange, but I believe the Seeker can take care of itself."

Padmé smiled at the younger woman's comment. But this was simply astounding. The report was not very detailed, understandably, since the data it relied on was not truly up to date. A lot of it was speculation, but as had been the case with the Seeker's original counterpart, speculation was synonymous with certainty. Mostly.

"Well, all I can say at this point is that we have an ace up our sleeve that I intend to play on a few fronts," the former queen said at last. "And I will not keep you and Jix. As I recall Leia wanted you to act as liaison to the Empire."

"Well, it has turned into more of an undercover mission now, hasn't it?" Mara replied lightly. "But I don't think Hah Kima is so smart as to know what we know."

"Yes. I, too, doubt Tious Markhan let much on about his experiments," Padmé agreed. "But do not forget that he can probably fall back on Sarreti's knowledge. At least that would have been my choice." 

A memory resurfaced, an off-hand comment, almost forgotten. _I have sent him on an errand._ Boba Fett had been on his way to Byss, even before the disastrous news from Hah Kima had come in. Kell had claimed that he had the bounty-hunter deliver a message to Yana Dar. But according to the Seeker he must have anticipated Hah Kima's betrayal. So what was Fett's true mission objective?

"I just hope he did not misjudge them completely," Mara said quietly. "If Yana plays her assigned part we'll be okay, but what if she isn't strong enough? Okay, okay," the red-head corrected herself when she saw Padmé's expression. "It was a stupid assumption. She's her father's daughter, after all. Speaking of, where's Leia?"

"Assisting Mon Mothma and Telmann Page with a few preparations for the first council meeting." Padmé gave Mara a thin smile. "That will be all. Please be careful on Byss. We rely on your insight."

"That won't be a problem," the other woman replied coolly as she rose. "But you should also take some care. Karrde will keep you posted on new developments on Nar Shadaa, I am sure."

"Good."

Once Mara had left, Padmé leaned back in her seat tiredly, her eyes blank. While the report had made a lot of things easier, it also had made a few others more complicated. She could not tell Mon Mothma of the where and how of this new information, she could only afford a very few initiates to her cause, now that it was clear that Hah Kima would do anything to please his new masters. Resting her chin in her hand pensively, she pondered the implications of these new revelations. Up to a certain point Roj Kell had not known what game was being played, which was why he had allowed this entire disaster to happen in the first place. But then he must somehow have realized the truth of what his former student had planned. 

At that point he had persuaded Yana Dar to send the Seeker to Talon Karrde for safe-keeping. But was it burden or blessing? Probably both. He had talked to her about responsibility that she would have to share with her husband, and now she understood what he had meant. If she continued this way she would turn into a traitor against the New Republic. And she would turn her daughter into a traitor too, if this ever became public. Did it matter, now that she knew what was to come? She gave a bitter laugh. Nothing mattered really. Nothing but the future. And it was not as if the means she was about to employ were particularly cruel, or cold. They would ensure their all survival.

Padmé rose from her seat with a sigh and went to her office door. "Anja," she called her assistant. "I need an appointment with General Page. Could you please arrange that? As soon as possible."

The arrival at Ju'lal was uneventful. Wreckage littered a sector of space, where the invaders had tried to hold off the attacking fleet. But there would be no survivors, Gilead Palleon knew. That had been one directive the Grand Admiral had issued: no quarter. It served as a warning as well as a precaution. That way they could minimize the risk of suddenly having another enemy fleet at their backs, this one warned. Therefore he was a bit startled when the officer manning the radar station reported an anomaly. Soon, a small ship could be seen approaching them from within the field of wreckage. Exhaling slowly, the Captain smiled. This would be the messenger Needa had left behind. 

"Commander, I want a flight out there to secure the area and confirm identification."

"At once," Teer Shikay answered smoothly. 

If the man felt uncomfortable with his position he did not show it. After all, the Eisenhart had started out under Lorth Needa's command, with Teer Shikay his second. Now that the Star Destroyer had become the Grand Admiral's flagship Shikay was third in line of command. 

"Captain, the newcomer has identified himself under Code 17444-Z. It's Master Chi'in," the commander reported a few moments later and turned toward Palleon. "Shall we give him a free ride?"

"Do that. And make sure the ship's weapons are powered down when we draw it into the hangar."

Watching the small ship being fixed into a tractor beam, Palleon felt apprehension gradually fill his mind. Chi'in had gone missing weeks ago, reportedly captured by the enemy. A fact that had been confirmed even by Naas Deron. That he would come back now was more than concidence, had to be. So, either this was a not so clever trick by the enemy, or else the Noghri was even luckier than Palleon had thought. 

"What do we have here?" a smooth voice asked right by his ear. Startled, the captain spun around to give Thrawn a salute. 

"Sir, an incoming ship. The pilot has identified himself under the code we had arranged for Master Chi'in."

"You assume it is someone else?"

"It _could_ be someone else," Palleon said quietly. "We are taking the ship in on a tractor beam."

"Good. Where did he come from?"

"The wreckage over there," the captain answered, gesturning vaguely toward the remains of the enemy fleet.

"Ah. In that case it will be safe to assume that it is indeed Master Chi'in. He is not stupid. Hiding inside that wreckage was an excellent choice, in case another fleet showed up. And it was a smart move if he wanted us to know he's friendly. The enemy would have placed the bait differently."

"Perhaps they are simply picking up on the way you think, Grand Admiral," Palleon joked, but Thrawn's glowing eyes regarded him earnestly.

"Perhaps. You will notice that I did not, in fact, call your precautious measures off."

"Yes, sir," the captain murmured, embarrassed. 

"Admiral Needa will have reached Lounia by now. If the enemy picked up his trail at Immeria he will be engaging them very soon."

"Do you believe Skywalker made it in time?"

"I am certain of it. A shame we cannot contact them directly. Hellermann will have brought them to Almashin first to report back and get an update. That means Needa has one Star Destroyer too many."

"Ah. So that's how you had wanted them to realize they are fighting two fleets?"

Thrawn gave him a thin smile. "Oh, I am pretty certain that they have figured that out by now. If not, all the better. The ship is secured, it would seem." Flicking a switch at the comm station before him, Thrawn contacted the officer on duty overseeing the hangar bay they had drawn the newcomer into. "Report, please," the Grand Admiral ordered smoothly.

"The ship is secured, sir," the officer replied just as calmly. "Squad is moving in to intercept, just in case. We have a visual now." There was a small pause. "It is Chi'in," the man said at last, obvioulsy relieved. 

"Good. Have the ship searched thoroughly and have the squad escort our guest up here."

Chi'in followed his escort calmly. When he had left Ooonda several days ago on Luke's orders he had had to rely on Ishare Luvo's scouts to find the Grand Admiral's fleet for him. Now he was very glad that the Lappa was not as witless as impatient. The young Jedi's plan was simple, designed to complement the two warlords' abilities and resources, regardless to how many ships Thrawn and the Dark Lord had left. And it would cement the alliance Luke had brought about on the Star People's enchanting homeworld. Of course that alliance still lacked the approval of the Chiss Emperor, but Chi'in was almost certain that the leader of such a defense-orientated race would welcome an offer of peace. 

Al'than'erudo would have made a stop-over at Almashin to inform Syndic Bal'maw'narda, who was closer to the conflict than the central government on Csilla. What the commander was to do then depended on the circumstances. The Noghri himself was looking forward to gaining a real update on the matters of war. How many resources they had, how many troops, what information the latest engagements had yieled. Nolyane had finally agreed to let him see the transcripts of the Yuuzhan Vong history, and he and Al'than'erudo had spent long hours with the Star Keeper, trying to put some sense into the mess they were presented with. Now he was fairly certain that the Yuuzhan Vong, or Jen motha, had been hunted by the surviving Massassi, who in turn had sought to carve a new living from the ashes the Jedi had left of their culture on Yavin 4 out here in the Unknown Regions. 

A turbo-lift took him and his escort up to the bridge level, but instead of leading the Noghri to the upper command center, the soldiers veered off toward the ship's interior. They came to a halt in front of a non-descript door that Chi'in supposed would open the way into the Grand Admiral's personal meditation chamber. Indeed, as the door slid open and the commander of his escort waved him in, he found himself plunged into darkness.

"Master Chi'in, welcome back," Thrawn's smooth voice intoned from the shadows. 

The Sith Lord did not need long to find the Chiss' presence, and carefully made his way over to join him. "Thank you," he answered at last and stopped in front of the rounded chair the Grand Admiral was seated on. Glowing red eyes studied him curiously.

"It took you some time to return."

"That was not entirely my own choice."

"Please," Thrawn told him and snapped his fingers once. A chair rolled out from the wall and the Noghri took the offered seat gracefully. "I would hear your report now."

"Very well. I was captured at Miecona, as I am sure you already know ...." An hour later Chi'in finished his tale and Thrawn was silent for a long time. 

"An alliance," he said at last. "A splendid idea. And no one knows safe you and I, and a few other, select initiates. Excellent." Steepling his fingers in front of his face, the Grand Admiral pursed his lips thoughtfully. "And if Syndic Bal'maw'narda agrees to using Almashin as battle-ground we will have more space to move."

"Grand Admiral," Chi'in began gravely, "what news from your side?"

"For obvious reasons we are maintaining radio silence. But I have been made aware of a breach of that directive by one Captain Ardos. Apparently he informed Byss of our defeat at Nirauan."

"Did that entail any unpleasant surprises for your fleet?"

"No. But I do not rely on outside support. Captain Ardos is under my command, and I have made certain that he will follow that command, as well as his fellow Imperial collegues. We have not heard anything from Captain Hellermann's Chimaera yet, but she should be joining Admiral Needa's task force at Lounia, along with the Dark Lord."

"_Admiral_ Needa?" Chi'in asked, surprised.

"Yes," Thrawn answered with a tight smile. "Lorth Needa managed a small miracle at Nirauan. We lost the Executor, but he saved the fleet. Most of it. But what losses he had to deal with we would have suffered anyway, probably."

Chi'in took a deep breath. "I was already wondering why you had chosen the Eisenhart as your flagship. So the Executor is gone ... But I can see you are doing well without her."

"We have no choice but to make do with what we have, is that not so?" the Grand Admiral offered philosophically. "It is unfortunate to hear that Lord Kell chose to end his part in the game."

The Noghri did not reply. He was undecided whether the ancient Sith Lord's death was fortune or disaster. But he also suspected that Kell had had his reasons for making that sacrifice. The gathering on Ooonda had proven that. Had Nolyane not seen what she had on Laa'kuan she might not have stood for Luke's plans concerning an alliance. But she had approved, and the others had followed her lead. Startled by the prolonged silence, the Noghri lifted his head abruptly to gaze at the Chiss seated across from him.

"Forgive me," he mumbled. "I was just thinking..."

"Of course," Thrawn replied smoothly. "But I wonder, just as you did right now, what benefits he thought to gain through that suicide mission."

Chi'in revealed sharp teeth in a mirthless smile. "Does it matter?"

The Grand Admiral huffed a small laugh. "No it does not, Master Chi'in. We have the bait for our prey and now we only have to position it so that it can be found."

"What about Lord Skywalker?"

A discreet noise rang into the darkness surrounding them, and Thrawn accepted the call at the comm installed into his chair, waving the Noghri into silence. "Yes?"

"Grand Admiral, Captain Ardos wishes to speak to you," came the reply. Chi'in recognized Gilead Palleon's voice.

"Does he now. Send him down."

"Yes, sir. At once."

The call disconnected, and suddenly the lights came on. "Master Chi'in," the Grand Admiral addressed the Sith once more, "I would ask you to keep in the background."

Nodding, Chi'in slipped off his seat and trotted over to stand beside the door. He shared a tight smile with Thrawn, and then they waited, both lost in their own speculations of what was to come.

The Grand Admiral assumed a relaxed position as he waited for Ardos to arrive. Chi'in was almost invisible, his gray skin and black clothing making him fade into the wall beside the door easily. In that he was a perfect epitome of what the Sith had been for the past millennium. Elusive, mysterious and feared. Even knowing that Chi'in clan Rim'kai and his allies were on his side in this conflict, that their ideals were very different from those of the late Emperor and Sith Master, even then a slight uneasiness remained. An uneasiness that was fueled by the memories of the Dark Lord's cunning in the last battles between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance, and the devious shrewdness of the late Lord Kell. Both were, and had been, masters of deception and manipulation, excellent players in the most dangerous game there was.

But Chi'in was no player, and neither were his students. The Dark Lord's son had trained with the last Jedi Masters, and his daughter had learned much from her father. They were the next generation, the new order of Force-users, or perhaps more than that. But there was no clear directive anymore, and the question was, whether the Jedi or Sith would prevail in that union of darkness and light._ I do not assume that you understand the Force_, Roj Kell had told him so contemptuously when they had first met about a year ago, and Thrawn still lacked that understanding. But he did understand that there were distinctions. Or were there? Were they still valid now? He gave Chi'in a pensive glance that the Sith Lord returned impassively.

This was no game anymore. It had moved far beyond the rules of the playground and into reality. Things were changing in a great many ways.

When the door opened to admit Captain Ardos, Thrawn gave the Imperial commander a very cold look. 

"Captain. What can I do for you?"

Ardos, to his credit, noticed Chi'in fairly soon, and was obviously disturbed by the Sith's presence. Nevertheless he gathered his courage again and faced the Grand Admiral once more. "Grave news has reached me, sir. The enemy has attacked Byss, and the Empress is missing."

"Did I not order an absolute radio silence?" Thrawn interrupted him icily.

"This reached me on the security channels. I really could not have interfered with that transmission," Ardos explained, flustered.

"I see. Continue."

"The surviving leaders of the Empire have requested the return of all Imperial armed forces to their respective bases in Imperial Space. I cannot refuse that order."

"The Empress issued the fleet's deployment. Who is countermanding it?"

"Moff Hah Kima, sir."

"Ah." Not bothering to elaborate on that ominous comment, Thrawn rose from his seat elegantly. "Of course I understand your leaders' concern, and I must honor it, even though this comes at a most unfortunate time."

"Sir, if I could, I would stay," the captain assured him sincerely.

"Thank you for your commitment, but if your leaders request your presence elsewhere I will not make demands of you. I will rather make demands of Moff Kima."

"Sir?"

"You will contact him over the security channels, tell him that I will not interfere with your command, but that I expect him to decide where he stands. If the Empire is still with us, I expect you and your comrades to show up at Almashin in seven standard days at the latest. If he is not with us, he can expect retribution for this betrayal once we have finished these invaders. I do not doubt that Lord Skywalker himself would agree with me."

Ardos' face turned very pale, and he unconsciously took a step back. "Yes, sir. I understand," he managed.

"Good. See to it that Moff Kima does understand, too. Dismissed. And," Thrawn let a smile flash across his features ever so briefly, "safe voyage."

Once the captain had rushed from the chamber, the Grand Admiral resumed his seat once more, where he was promptly joined by Chi'in. 

"You suspect treason?" the Noghri asked quietly.

"No. I _expect_ treason. War makes profiteers, and what more profit could one gain than the survival of one's people? And it is very convenient for us to let our possible traitors know where we will amass our forces."

"What if they second-guess you and also expect reinforcements to show up for us?"

"They won't expect the reinforcements we will be getting, Master Chi'in. If you had seen those in action you would know what I mean. No, Hah Kima will expect reinforcements to come out of the New Republic, and will do everything he can to prevent them from joining us." 

Smiling to himself, the Grand Admiral imagined the gleeful triumph Hah Kima would undoubtedly feel once news reached him. But that triumph would not last for very long. And yet, the Yuuzhan Vong war master might suspect a trap.

"Master Chi'in," he continued softly. "There is a position open for an advisor of your skills and abilities at my side. A post Cronn previously occupied, and that I have offered you before." He gave the Noghri a hard look. "I would appreciate it very much if you would not refuse again."

The short warrior returned his gaze, black eyes unblinking. "I would be honored, Grand Admiral," he said at last. 

"Excellent. Then let us set to work."

"They're here!"

Looking up from the most recent scout report from Lounia, Lorth Needa gave the ensign standing in the doorway a nod. "Thank you. Please see them in."

They had reached Lounia after a short stopover at Immeria, and they would not stay for long. Lounia had never been invaded, as he had known beforehand, but it did not do to make too perfect an impression on the enemy. And it would distract their pursuers from their real route. He could hear the sound of approaching boots and straightened when the newcomers passed the threshold. With a smile, he gave the Dark Lord a salute, balked a bit at seeing him with just one arm, but did not let his irritatioin show. 

"Good to have you back, Lord Skywalker," he offered sincerely.

"And even better to hear about your progress," the other replied cheerfully. "I am impressed. But then, I did not really expect anything less from Grand Admiral Thrawn, and yourself." Needa beamed. "He left orders for me?"

"Well," the admiral replied, "he said you were to do whatever you thought necessary. He does not trust the peace. They will find us out sooner or later after all." Needa hesitated. "I was also given to understand that you would arrive on board the Chimaera."

Nodding, Skywalker took a seat and waved the rest of his companions in. Needa knew two of them, Naas Deron and Puket, but the third was an unfamiliar Noghri.

"The Chimaera didn't make it. We came to Almashin on board the Millennium Falcon. This is Chi'in's great-nephew, Andarack," the Dark Lord introduced the silent warrior. "I am sure his hunting skills will be of great use to us."

"Didn't make it?" the admiral echoed, startled. "Well, I suppose we should have expected this. Is he Force-sensitive?" Needa asked as he studied the Noghri more closely.

"Yes, although I must stress that this is not necessarily an advantage. I heard of your excellent performance at Nirauan. Congratulations on your promotion, Admiral."

"Thank you. But if I may, perhaps it would be of some advantage to have Andarack clan Rim'kai join the operation I am planning, along with Naas Deron and Puket."

The Dark Lord frowned. "What operation would that be?"

"A special flight. Their star fighters are still giving us trouble, and they also seem to have living objectiles that latch onto our ships and can even survive hyperspace. Those things chew right through the hull."

"Tough. How do you get rid of them?"

"Our technicians are working on new shielding for our TIE fighters," Needa said with a small smile. "Not the conventional type, though. I would like your crew to test it, since I still do believe they have an advantage, and would be able to handle any difficulties better than the average pilot."

"We have brought modified clawcraft with extra-strong shielding," Skywalker mused aloud. "Think your technicians can use those?"

"I'll tell them to have a look. That is not all. You have been briefed on the Grand Admiral's strategy?"

"Yes. And I have some good news for him, that is, Chi'in will give him that news. We will get reinforcements, but they will meet us at Almashin. I have already talked to the Council of Syndics there. Syndic Bal'maw'narda agrees on my choice of target."

"You want to make a stand there?"

The Dark Lord nodded. "It is convenient. For the enemy, a strike at the heart of our defenses would mean a great victory."

"But they might suspect a trap."

"Perhaps. But they are not yet so strong that they could take on the rest of the galaxy, They have too many troops and ships out here. If they want to advance they have to knock us out first."

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Lorth Needa took a seat at his desk. "Is there a way we could restrict them from hyperspace?"

"Excuse me?"

"Obviously they could sneak past our defenses. If we could prevent them from entering hyperspace we could contain them here in the Unknown Regions."

"An excellent idea, but impossible to achieve, I fear. We know next to nothing of their technology, and frankly I do not care. They must seek shelter somewhere, or else their ships won't survive. Another point." The Dark Lord said as he leaned toward Needa. "We have a traitor in our midst. Personally, I suspect someone within the Empire."

"Are you certain of that?" Needa asked with a frown. If that were true, they might be in trouble.

"My daughter has sent some agents to confirm this, but we are pretty certain. The attack at Nirauan was too untypical for this race. They had to have had additional instructions and information."

"What about the Empress?"

"I am not sure. Her status will be confirmed, too."

Lorth Needa closed his eyes briefly, gathering some calm once more. Then, gazing at the warlord steadily, he said: "Very well. We do have an advantage in that we know these regions better than the enemy does. Grand Admiral Thrawn is planning on using both conventional and unconventional tactics against their ships, meaning we will use their own weapons against them. Admittedly I seem to lack some creativity in that part, and I was hoping you could be of assistance there."

The Dark Lord smiled nastily. "Excellent. I will leave the traditional approach to you, of course, since you have already proven your mastery in that field. As for special operations, I do indeed have some ideas. One question. When do we expect the next engagement with the enemy?"

Looking at his wrist-chrono, Needa raised his brows ever so slightly. "In exactly three standard hours."

TBC


	33. Chapter 32 - The Art of War

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Chapter 32 – The Art of War

She was truly learning something new with every day she spent in captivity aboard the Warmaster's worldship. Although she had not yet met Marayl Carr himself, Yana made sure that Alyn Cha revealed tidbits about the Warmaster's strategy once in a while. Instead of forcing her captors to employ torture to make her talk, Yana had resolved to play the arrogant, slightly unimaginative Empress, asking stupid questions and teasing her jailers with boisterous comments. Already Alyn Cha was suspecting her of pursuing certain goals, but Yana was careful to push the priestess' suspicions in the right direction. She hoped, oh she hoped very much, that by now the New Republic would know that she had been captured, that they would expose Hah Kima as a traitor and use the Seeker to work with her, to work against the Yuuzhan Vong. 

Her trusted spy was Roganda, who was still serving the shaper Ly Sul as best as she could. But her controller was dissatisfied with Roganda's knowledge and had resorted to using her only as interpreter when he questioned Yana. Soon, he had promised, he would have her implanted with a tyzoworm of her own, and then she would replace Roganda for good. It was clear to the Empress how much his words must have scared and hurt Roganda, whose sole hope was her continued usefulness for the shaper. And Yana did not want to lose her friend, not now. 

Her conversations with Ly Sul, if they could be called conversations at all, had yielded some interesting findings, after all. First, she now had clear evidence of the shapers' heresy, and proof, that told her that the Yuuzhan Vong indeed came from this very galaxy. If she understood correctly, everything unnatural was a blasphemy, and every sacrifice supposed to advance the worthy toward a status that brought them closer to their gods. But if everything unnatural was blasphemy, why then did the Yuuzhan Vong create living tools? Did they believe those natural? She had seen other Yuuzhan Vong, servants, she had thought at first, before Ly Sul had enlightened her as to their true status. They were Shamed Ones, whose bodies rejected the modifications that made each sect unique, and they were little more than slaves. To Yana, those were the real Yuuzhan Vong. Everyone else was just pretending. 

Of course, her captors would see that differently, but her goal was not necessarily to show understanding of their customs, but to annoy and confuse them. So, when she was once more brought before the priestess Alyn Cha, the Empress gave the female a thin smile.

"More information, priestess? I thought I had already given you everything you could use to your advantage."

"The infidels will convene a council of war," Alyn Cha told her, ignoring Yana's comment. "We will not need you further, once we have established our own agents with that council."  
  
Raising her brows, the Empress gave the other a startled look. "Oh? How unfortunate. You underestimate our warlords if you believe they will listen to what that council says."

Alyn Cha stared at her. "I recognise your attempt at diversion, Yana Dar," she said at last. "You do not wish to die."

"I doubt sacrificing me would gain you any more insight than sacrificing Roj Kell did."

"Marayl Carr was wrong to sacrifice this one to the gods so soon," the priestess growled. "My spies tell me that there may be a way to recover his knowledge, though."

"Hah Kima told you about the Seeker, didn't he?"

"Yes. When our allies gain control of this Seeker we will be able to better forsee your warlords' actions."

"If. Not when. I doubt Hah Kima knows where the Seeker is. And the counselor won't tell him."

Alyn Cha smiled. "He already has told him. The world is called Nar Shadaa."

"You will like it," Yana retorted grimly. "It is full of what you call abominations."

Her thoughts were racing. So they knew where the Seeker was! But surely Karrde would anticipate this? But he did not even know that Hah Kima had betrayed them! And if the Yuuzhan Vong really inserted their own spy into the council of war... While Thrawn and the Dark Lord would ultimately make their own choices, the council would undoubtedly be discussing their tactics nevertheless. _Wait_. Calming down again she tried to control her rapidly beating heart. This was the _Seeker_ she was thinking about, a highly advanced program, and it was in the hands of a man she had often admired for his quick wits and gut feeling. 

Talon Karrde would know what to do. And she knew that her people had done an excellent job on refining the Seeker. Unbidden, images of Abla rose in front of her inner eye, as he was seated in front of his com pad, totally focused on his task. The way he had always spared a smile for her, no matter how stressful his work might become. Yana shook those memories off determinedly. The Seeker was as close to its natural counterpart as could be. Without its deviousness and inclination to keeping secrets and playing games. At least that was what she hoped. Now, if Karrde knew what was going on, if the Seeker had given him the advice she thought it would give, then Hah Kima's spies would be in for a nasty surprise. 

Looking up demurely to face Alyn Cha she put a tremble in her voice as she said: "You will not win."

The priestess did not react. Instead she rose abruptly, her gaze fixed on something behind Yana. Bowing deeply, she said something in her own tongue, and the Empress felt her skin tighten in apprehension. 

"So, the infidel is still confident in our ultimate defeat?" The voice was male, and Yana needed no introductions to know that it was the voice of Marayl Carr. "Your priest also believed that his gods would save him, that they would destroy us. But it is our gods that will doom you and your kind."

Yana let her hatred for these creatures and their perverse belief run freely through her heart, and when she turned around to face the Warmaster a feral smile was painted across her features, and her blue eyes were sparkling with a power she had denied for so long. 

"Your gods," she declared, in a tone that was all cold steel and hot wrath, "are dead. Your gods, Marayl Carr, were destroyed hundreds of years ago. You will never even come close to what they embodied, no matter how hard you try. They are dead, defeated, and you have forsaken their rule for the petty gods you have found convenient to continue your perverse antics."

"For this blasphemy you shall die," he hissed, and one of his attendants, a bulky warrior as ugly as any she had seen, immediately darted forward, ready to kill the Empress.

But Yana stood her ground unafraid, her anger so cold that she felt no fear at all. Watching the creature advance on her dispassionately, she found herself sucked into a black hole of darkness, its icy edges cutting her mind, to reveal the destructive emotions she had hidden behind her intellect. She had always known the dangers they presented, had seen them eat her father alive, until he had been a creature of madness, but she had learned to dance the blade between sanity and chaos since Abla's death. 

The warrior stopped his headlong plunge with a shriek, as his body was being ripped apart with cold precision. Once she was finished, the thing that lay twitching on the deck bore no resemblence to the warrior at all. 

Yana smiled. "Am I not merciful, Marayl Carr? Am I not generous? To give him this last honor and make him a resemblance of the great Yun-Yammka! A mockery!" she added in a hiss. "You fools! Do I have to kill you one by one to show you the true glory of your gods?"

The Warmaster stared at her, just as rigid as Alyn Cha, who gazed down at the trembling body at their feet with horror.

"But you are right, Alyn Cha," the Empress continued. "I do not wish to die. My father made promises to you, did he not? I want you to hold to these promises, even though I know you never meant to, when Hah Kima came to you to negotiate this deal. But if you deal with me," she purred, "you'd better _be_ sincere." She stepped over the warrior's corpse delicately, her gaze fixed on Marayl Carr. Once she stood before him she reached out to run a hand along his artificially broken jaw almost tenderly. "Will you perform that service for your gods?" she asked, her voice sweet as honey.

"Hah Kima negotiated for the freedom of your Empire," the Warmaster growled, and slapped her hand away.

"I thought so," she replied calmly. 

"In exchange he agreed to deliver information to us, vital information that will help us defeat the infidels of your galaxy."

"Including those of my Empire, of course."

His eyes flickered ominously, caught in the lie, but in the end he snorted contemptuously: "Of course! You are all infidels! But maybe," he added, calmer than before, "you would be worthy enough to join us, Empress Yana Dar."

"Join you?" she asked sweetly, a smile playing over her lips. "A delicious offer. I will ... consider it."

Anakin Skywalker had not felt so happy in the cockpit of a starfighter ever since he had had to give up the thrill of flying in combat for the no less adrenaline-packed battles fought on a star ship's bridge. Yet it just wasn't comparable. Out here he was in the midst of the fight, leaving the tactics to Needa, who had proven his ability to keep a cool head more than once in the past, and who could handle a standard situation very easily. Just as the admiral had predicted, an enemy fleet had moved out of hyperspace to engage them a little less than three hours after Anakin and his team had arrived on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Starhammer, Needa's new flagship. The Dark Lord had been suitably awed at the Grand Admiral's plans, that had the Yuuzhan Vong jumping to his tune, whether they wanted it or not. They were given no choice but to pursue and attack the Chiss-New Republic Alliance. This battle at Lounia had been planned days ago, and every hand on board the ships of Needa's task force knew exactly what they were to do. 

While the capital ships were engaging the enemy's heavy cruisers, Anakin and his companions were taking the modified TIE's out for practice. The small fighters' maneuverability was legendary, even though the additional, pock-marked surface counterbalanced some of it and it was certainly no match for an Interceptor, but Anakin enjoyed the ease with which his craft reacted to every tiny move he made on the yoke. Naas Deron and Puket were acting as his wing-mates, while Andarack had taken on the task of coordinating their flight. Needa had not wanted to give the Noghri full control of the entire mass of star fighters he had sent out into battle, understandably. But then, Andarack's flight had a special assignment. While the rest of the alliance's fighters employed the cross-fire tactics the pilots had nick-named the Web of Doom, to Anakin's great amusement, the ten fighters under the Noghri's command were flying attacks against the smaller cruisers.

"Black Flight, I have some anomalies heading for your position," Andarack announced calmly. "Lord Skywalker, could you identify those?"

"Grutchins," Anakin's memories supplied instantly. "They are the things Needa told us about. Let's see how they fare against our new shielding."

Diving for the midst of the grutchin swarm aimed at them, with Deron and Puket right behind, Anakin braced himself for the first impact. When it came, the TIE took a dizzying spin that failed to dislodge the first grutchin, and more struggled to get a hold on the hull. Continuing the spin, Anakin concentrated on the grutchins that seemed to try to get at the only heat-sources available on the small craft. The engines, and the pilot. Anakin stopped spinning, and waited calmly for more of those things to lodge onto his ship. He called them with a tantalizing image of heat and food. 

"Hey, Black Lead! What the hell are you doing?" Deron shouted over the comm, his own TIE making a corkscrew pass.

"Inviting them over for dinner," Anakin replied with a smile. "All right," he added to himself. Let's see how you like this." 

He activated the sensor-supported shielding, and instantly spikes shot forth from the secondary hull that had been added to the original, spearing the grutchins with mechanical precision. As expected, the sharp spikes broke through the grutchins' heavy armor and exposed their innards to the merciless cold of space, freezing the insects from the inside. The design was such, that not all spikes were activated at once, but the sensors selected the location of the anomalies on the hull and acted with pin-point accuracy. Hitting another button, Anakin retracted the spikes once more, and the dead insects fell away into open space.

"It works," he whispered to himself. "Good. Now let's see if we can crack the dovin basals."

The dovin basals were a most effective shielding, creating gravitational anomalies that simply swallowed torpedos or absorbed laser fire. Heavy cross-fire worked here too, but it took far too long, to take out a cruiser, or even a worldship that way. Therefore they had to find a faster way to knock the dovin basals out. Needa had suggested sending torpedos out and trigger them prematurely, so that the explosion and fragments might irritate the basals. It was worth a try. 

"Black Flight, move in for target," Andarack ordered calmly, and the destined ship's coordinates came up on Anakin's fighter's screen instantly. It was a smaller ship, and the ten TIEs dove toward it instantly, to form a loose sphere around the ship. The idea was to split up, have one group draw the enemy fire and have another set of fighters take out the distracted dovin basals. But then another order came in.

Watching the screens in front of him attentively, Lorth Needa also kept an ear open for the reports coming in from his commanders. Andarack's order caught his attention, because of the Noghri's flight's experimental missions out on the battle-field. With a slight frown, he checked the ship Andarack had assigned his flight as next target and watched the ten TIEs move in for the kill. Cutting into the flight's transmission channel instantly, Needa braced himself for a rebuke, but went ahead anyway.

"Black Flight, this is Needa. Abandon target."

To his great surprise and relief they followed his order instantly, just before two more enemy cruisers, that had only been waiting for the flight to take that bait, reached the site. Across the bridge, he risked a look at the Noghri standing at his command station, looking perplexed. But then the alien gave him an appreciative nod and resumed his command. 

"It seems I have a lot to learn yet," Andarack told his pilots wrily. "All right. Let's leave this to Blue and Red."

Indeed, having anticipated the intent of the three enemy cruisers already a few minutes back, the admiral had sent those flights on their way to knock that trap out instantly. Andarack had almost ruined that assignment. Well, no hard feelings there, the Noghri was, after all, new to this sort of battle. 

"Excellent timing, Admiral," the Dark Lord's voice told him over the command channel the two of them shared. "Could you have Red and Blue make that run the way we planned?"

"Of course. And could you bring your pilots' attention on the cruiser starboard of your position? They're trying to sneak behind your formation."

"Already registered. Stand by your starboard batteries."

Needa smiled and nodded at Andarack to relay that order on the official Black Flight channel. The Noghri seemd just a bit flustered, but then he seemed to catch up on the drift the two commanders were managing this battle. Red and Blue were picking up Black Flight's aborted mission and Black Flight itself veered off to take care of the threat that snuck up on them from behind. The task force's flagship was still busy pummeling the largest cruiser the enemy fleet had to offer, not a worldship, but still heavy on the firepower. The enemy's goal was to keep the alliance's capital ships occupied, and Needa obliged happily, having his own heavy cruisers concentrate on their weight class. 

But just as Black Flight made a first, furious pass at the smaller cruiser, Needa gave order for the starboard gunners to send torpedos right down the flight's trail. As expected, the dovin basals of the enemy cruiser followed the TIEs' fire and were taken completely by surprise, when the torpedos impacted against the fairly unprotected hull. Needa left the TIEs to finish that ship. Meanwhile Blue and Red had knocked out one of the three cruisers and were proceeding to take out another, with the Blackblade, another Star Destroyer, covering their run. 

"Captain Feynhard, how far are we with the sensory data?" Needa asked his new second, a short, middle-aged man, without averting his gaze from the radar screens. 

"We have Probe One's data," the captain replied pensively. "Do you want to wait for confirmation, sir?" The probes had been sent out to collect data on the kinetic energy, mass and weight of the plasma bolts hurled at their ships.

"Yes. One more try. Once that's in, have the operators set to finetuning the tractor beams instantly."

"As ordered, Admiral."

It had been one of the Dark Lord's ideas, to use the enemy's advantages against them. One of many ideas. Another would be tested very soon.

"Admiral, the dovin basals remained stationary on Red Flight's last run," General Hxenti, aboard the Blackblade, reported hurriedly.

"They are learning," Needa agreed. "Very well. Blue and Red Flight will join with Black Flight. Have Commander Eilos take over control for all three flights. Skywalker, Deron and Puket are to report directly to him and rely the coordinates for their torpedos. Andarack clan Rim'kai," he called out quietly, and the Noghri joined him without making any noise.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Commander Eilos is taking over the coordination of Red, Blue and Black Flight. You will assist the Starhammer's gunners with target identification for this heavy cruiser up front."

"Yes, sir."

The Sith turned away to hurry over to join General Mallayka, the Starhammer's gunnery liaison on the bridge.

"Admiral, Probe Two has reported in. I have the operators work on the tractor beam settings now," Captain Feynhard piped up.

"Excellent. Commander Eilos, in your own time, please," Needa told his commanders calmly and almost jumped when the three flights burst into instant action. 

The huge cruiser up front was preparing to throw another set of plasma projectiles at the Starhammer's shields – visible on the heat sensors of the Star Destroyer's bridge – and just as the enemy ship's ducts opened to spew deadly molten rock at the Star Destroyer, three things happened. Five tractor beams locked on five different plasma ducts, and Needa had to admire the three Sith with Black Flight for their pinpoint accurate target prediction. Immediately Red and Blue Flight swarmed in to take out the dovin basals that had already toned down on their gravity manipulation to let the plasma pass. 

Two tractor beams held on to a ball of plasma that had just left its exit duct, and almost immediately a torpedo fired from the Blackblade's forward batteries, timed perfectly with the deactivation of the tractor beams, shattered the glob of molten rock into tiny pieces. Momentarily confused, the dovin basals were too late to avert a volley of torpedos, that tore into the cruiser's hull mercilessly. By then the Starhammer's gunners had also started firing on the patch of unprotected hull the TIEs had opened up. In a set of further inner explosions, the large enemy cruiser broke apart.

"Good work," the admiral whispered, realizing only now how lucky he had been at Nirauan. "Good work!" he repeated, louder this time, for all to hear. "Now let's finish the rest."

__

Let the Sith be your eyes and ears, Naas Deron had offered the Grand Admiral weeks ago on Nirauan. And they were becoming just that. For a moment Needa felt incredibly powerful, to have so deadly an ally with him, under his command. With the help of the Dark Lord and his disciples they could wipe out the entire Yuuzhan Vong fleet with ease. With sudden abruptness he realized the danger that lay in that thought. The danger of misusing the powers that the Sith were giving willingly in defense of their home. Exhaling slowly, the admiral leaned back in his seat, shocked at his own fervent reaction to this victory. He shook his head ever so slowly, trying to get rid of that feeling of ultimate power, of an unlimited desire for vengeance. They could do so much ... 

"Sir, Black Flight is taking course for the Starhammer. They wish to come aboard."

"What?" Looking up at Feynhard, Needa guiltily thought that the Dark Lord might have picked up on his feelings. Well, if he had, all the better. They needed to talk about this. "Yes, of course. They will need some rest, I assume. Let them come aboard, Captain. Commander Eilos, what's your status?"

"All intact and ready for more, Admiral."

"Excellent. Black Flight will retire for a short break. For the next battle I want you to set a schedule for every flight that's out there."

"Yes, sir. Will do. Eilos out."

Closing his eyes briefly, Lorth Needa felt almost scared, as he pondered the temptation his new position offered. Finally, he rose from his seat. He could not retire from the bridge in the middle of a battle, even though this one was dying down fast. But he very much wanted to. _I am not cut out for this_, he thought desperately. Things had been so much simpler when he had served as the Dark Lord's second. Much simpler.

By the time the pilots of Black Flight were ready to go out again there was nothing to do anymore, and so Anakin decided to pay a visit to the Starhammer's medical facilities. There had not been any time to get a replacement for his artificial arm before the Yuuzhan Vong had engaged them, but now he might find some. He was just discussing the prosthesis' finer details with the medic responsible for such replacement surgery, when Lorth Needa appeared, looking slightly nervous. Anakin knew all too well what was bothering the admiral. 

"Lord Skywalker, I need to talk to you," the man began, then looked at the medic pointedly, "in private."

"I will be checking what parts we have available," the doctor replied smoothly, and left without another word or waiting for a reply.

Anakin took a seat on one of the chairs standing around, and was joined reluctantly by the admiral himself. "You know what this is about?"

"I could not help but notice your outburst back there," Anakin confirmed quietly. "What was going wrong?"

"It is the responsibility," Needa claimed, but the Dark Lord knew it was something different. "I am just not the man for this sort of job."

"You performed very well alongside General Dodonna with the Rebel Alliance, and you were an excellent captain before that. You had no problem taking responsibility. You acted all on your own on Chandrila and Tatooine, too, and you led a sizeable task force for the past year at the borders practically alone."

"Chandrila and Tatooine were different. I was truly alone then, without any responsibility safe for keeping your wife out of the Empire's clutches. But now I have to deal with leading an entire fleet on my responsibility. I find that I am losing my cool." Turning sad eyes on him, Needa hesitated for a moment. "I am not fit to be an admiral. I need the reassurance of being second, of being answerable to someone. This way," he made a vage gesture, "this way I feel there is no limit to what I could do."

But Anakin wasn't really listening. Instead he remembered what he had done to Needa over a year ago, when he had used the then captain as bait for Grand Admiral Thrawn. He had bonded with him, made a tiny portion of Needa's mind his. He very much feared that the effects of that violation were showing only now. Guiltily, he averted his eyes, and thought about what to do. 

"I fear I am responsible for that;" he confessed.

"How so?" Needa asked, bewildered.

"You are not aware of this yourself, but do you remember when I sent you out to Chandrila to meet with Governor Tieman?"

"You said I would be protected," the admiral mused aloud. Then his eyes widened with revelation. "And later Tomas Piett told me that you were using me to communicate with Thrawn in secret..."

"Yes. It is strictly forbidden for a Jedi to do this sort of thing, but I ... I am no Jedi any longer. Back then I was more of a Dark Jedi than I am now, I believe."

"So I am what – turning to the Dark Side?" Needa said with a nervous laugh.

"Perhaps."

"What?"

"It is your decision. And I regret that I have done this to you, I regret it very much. It seemed logical at that time. I was not – thinking ahead."

Needa gave him a pleading glance. No accusation, no anger, no rant. The man's loyalty to him was simply astounding, and it drove the spike of guilt even deeper into Anakin's heart. 

"I am sorry," he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"And that is all? There must be something you can do. You _must_ take command over this task force. I beg you! I can live with being second. I have been second throughout all of my career."

"You deserve better, Admiral."

Needa's shoulder slumped. "I do not know. Not like this. I feel helpless. Afraid."

"Don't we all, at some point of our lives?"

"You are tempting me," Needa said accusingly.

Anakin shrugged. "You decide whether to give in to temptation or not."

"What if I give in?" the admiral whispered, now truly scared.

"Your subordinates would reject you, as well as your superiors. You would be an outcast, loathed, feared. Some might even call you a madman."

"I would not want that," Needa declared, heart-felt.

"Then you must get over this crisis, Admiral. I will help you, but I will not take over command. Changing the commander now would not be good for the troops' morale. They respect you. You have impressed them at Nirauan."

"They respect you, too, Lord Skywalker."

"Nevertheless, I object your decision. You will stay in command of this fleet."

"Can't you make this undone?"

"It is hard to break that bond, and I would not want to make you less than what you were. I trust in your resolve and your ideals to overcome this, Admiral. Do not disappoint me."

Needa gave him a brave smile. "No sir, I won't."

"Good." Rising from his seat, Anakin looked down upon the shorter man with compassion, as Needa stood also. "You can do it, Admiral. I know you can. And now you should get some rest."

Needa gave him a dejected nod and started to leave. Watching him, Anakin could practically see him change from an emotional wreck to a determined commander, who left the room with shoulders straight and head high. He would manage. For now, they still had a war to fight, and he had to get a new arm.

"Admiral, can you spare a moment?" 

Startled out of his dark broodings, as he had been making his way back to the bridge, Needa looked up to find Puket standing in front of him. "Of course," he managed. Falling into step with the Sith warrior he asked: "What is it?"

"While you were busy up here Naas has been getting an update on the Grand Admiral's plans, and noticed an order we received half an hour ago from Thrawn's task force."

"The two task forces are communicating solely through messengers."

Puket nodded. "Yes. This came over the security channels. Naas was trying to rouse Lord Skywalker for a meeting. But Lord Skywalker is about to undergo replacement surgery, so he wants to discuss this with you first."

She led him into Security and together they entered a small cubicle, where the dark-haired Sith was busy studying the task force's layout and comparing it to what data he had of the entire fleet under the Grand Admiral's command. "Have a look, Admiral," he said without preamble and waved Needa closer.

Leaning over the other's shoulder Lorth Needa squinted at the data displayed on the screen before him. It was a list of the task force's ships, as well as of the whole fleet. Some ships were marked red, others green. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked quietly.

"The red ones are the Imperial ships Yana Dar sent with your original New Republic task force. The green ones are our own ships, plus your contingent." Naas Deron swivelled around in his seat to gaze up at Needa. "A message came in, calling all Imperial commanders home. Of course they could not abandon the battle, but I expect an official request to go to you soon."

"They are being recalled? Why?" the admiral demanded, aghast.

"We will be losing twenty ships in total. That is a lot," Deron continued, seemingly ignoring Needa's question. "With the losses we've had so far this will leave us with a fifth of our original strength, and with this task force only five capital ships will remain, including only three Star Destroyers."

"Impossible."

"Byss has been attacked, and apparently the Empress has vanished," the Sith explained. "Their concern is understandable."

"Attacked? Byss?" 

"Yes. This is the other target Lord Skywalker spoke about, I believe. One worldship went on to attack Bilbringi, the other, Byss. It's a ruse to lure our allies away, no less. It has to be that," he added fervently. 

"Those bastards!" Needa exclaimed, totally undignified, but regained his composure again quickly. "They are forcing us to draw all of our troops together, just as the Grand Admiral has planned anyway." A sudden smile lit up his face. "We're ahead of them. Admiral Parck and General Sa'lym'a are preparing the defenses of Csilla and Almashin, aren't they?"

"Yes," Puket confirmed. "Although I do not understand why, if we know we will meet them at Almashin."

"Chances are that they won't strike there," the admiral explained. "There's an old rule in warfare, to defend where no defense is expected and to attack where no attack is expected."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding. "So our enemies believe us trapped, but we will surprise them."

"Exactly." 

Lorth Needa straightened again, and suddenly he felt relieved. Everything was porceeding as Thrawn had planned. He only had to follow the flow of the Grand Admiral's strategy and he would be all right. Undoubtedly the Imperial commanders with the Chiss' task force had already informed him of their impending departure. That, of course, did not erase the fact they they now had much less fire-power than they had anticipated. 

"Master Deron, can you tell me anything about this occurence?" he asked suddenly, gazing at the Sith Lord. 

"This is more than it seems, Admiral," the bulky human replied, his voice utterly calm. "But then, the Grand Admiral is also much more than he seems," he added with a smile. "For now, I see no reason to worry."

"Thank you. When I have found one, I'll be sure to let you know," Needa answered drily and turned around to leave. 

Easy was dangerous. Very dangerous. Stalking toward the medical ward to wait for Skywalker, he crossed his hands on his back, brooding some more. If they managed to draw all their allies away... What if Mon Mothma got it into her head to recall the fleet? But no, she had already thought of that, hadn't she? She had not allowed the Dark Lord to take all that many ships with him into the Unknown Regions, exactly for the one reason that that might leave the Republic undefended. A clever woman. 

Naas Deron was right after all. There was no reason to worry. 

Yana felt her throat tighten as she was ushered into Marayl Carr's private chambers. Ignoring the surroundings, though, she kept her attention fixed solely on him. He was the one whom she needed to goad into following her lead, who had to come to trust her. She knew very well that he was not cowed by yesterday's performance, but he was willing to test her sincerity. 

"Now, Empress, what is your plan?" he asked harshly, not bothering to look at her as he gazed down at a row of villips, strange, wrinkled things that he used to communicate with his commanders and agents. 

"A diversion," she answered curtly. "I do not believe that the New Republic will be fooled by Hah Kima's assurances, therefore we cannot exclude the Empire from our attacks. They will have to sacrifice a few pawns to make this illusion credible."

"Are you willing to make those sacrifices? To sacrifice your warriors?"

Yana gave him a cold smile. "It is no less than what you do, Warmaster, to send your troops on senseless missions, calling their deaths sacrifices, although they mean nothing to the Grand Admiral."

He did not answer for quite some time. Finally he said, his voice a low growl: "You are trying too hard, Empress. Our belief is not easily shattered."

"No? It was never a belief to start with," she purred. "You do not live in accordance with the organisms around you. You have enslaved them, as you were once enslaved by your gods."

He gave her a tight smile. "I expected you to argue this way. But you are wrong. We recognize the sacrifice of our warriors. That is all that matters to us."

"They still die for nothing, for I do not see that your enemies are very impressed with those sacrifices. They have no respect for your warriors."

"You are insolent, Empress," he retorted, turning away. "Perhaps you may come to understand yet. But before I begin to teach you, you will talk to your counselor." Marayl Carr gestured at one of the villips. "You will see with its eyes, speak with its mouth. Maybe you will gain an inkling of what it is like to be Yuuzhan Vong, what it means," he added acidly.

Swallowing down a lump of fear, Yana stepped closer, and self-consciously rubbed a hand over her shaven forehead, over the ridges underneath her still raw skin. It had been a risk, but she had accepted the modifications necessary to convince her captors that she was willing to cooperate at all. It was strange, and felt strange, yet the Dark Side served as a shield for her to keep her balance, to remain sane. Shuddering, Yana remembered the discussion she had had with Ly Sul concerning Roganda's fate. How she had begged for the younger woman's life, had threatened the shaper in such a fashion that he had finally given in, just to keep her from going mad on him. 

But Roganda... Roganda had refused to talk to her afterwards. She felt betrayed, deceived, and was falling ever deeper into a bleak depression that Yana herself was just barely able to hold at bay herself. But she could not reassure her now, could not tell her that she knew exactly what she was doing, that all of this simply was a ruse to fool their captors. In the deepest depth of her heart, though, she found a harsh little voice that held only contempt for her, that scolded her for breaking her ideals, for following her father's path. 

Reaching out toward the villip Marayl Carr had indicated, she saw her hand tremble. She closed her eyes as she touched the thing, felt it reach out to her, connect with one of the organisms that had been implanted into her head and allowed her to communicate via the villip. Opening her eyes again she found herself looking at a bleak cell, with blurred walls, the entire background no more than shadows. She saw a few indistinct shapes hovering there, guards, she guessed, but the two men in the foreground she could see all too well. One, Hah Kima, wore a self-assured smile on his face, and something flashed in his eyes she found hard to identify through the villip. Elation? Of course she knew that the villip on Byss must be showing the modifications where they were visible on her features, and that explained the disgust that appeared slowly on the second man's features as he recognized her gradually. 

Her heart grew tight at the sight of him, at seeing the same look of betrayal in his eyes that had caused Roganda to turn away from her. But he could not escape. She could not allow him to back out of her scheme. In a sense, Franzis Sarreti was the one who could truly make it work. He had served her so faithfully over the past weeks, had endured so much to shield her against any hardship and had unfalteringly offered his assistance as she had been tried and tested time after time. The disappointment she could see in him now broke her heart. And she would have to hurt him even worse. Schooling her features, she gave Hah Kima a cold look. 

"I had hoped to find you dead, Hah Kima," she began harshly.

Inclining his head, the moff seemed strangely reverent. "I am pleased to see that you have finally accepted your role in this game, Your Majesty," he told her placidly. "Warmaster Marayl Carr has informed me already of your coming to your senses. Your father would be very pleased."

Yana managed a smile. "My father undoubtedly would have made the same choices I am making now, Hah Kima," she said cryptically. Turning her attention on Sarreti, she let her features grow serious again. "Counselor, where are your loyalties?"

He opened his mouth, astonished. "What?" It came out as a croak, and Yana winced inwardly, because she could see that he could hardly speak, let alone focus enough to gather what was really going on. 

"Your loyalties," she repeated, her voice hard. "You have proven your bravery, as senseless as that was, but you have forsaken your duty." His eyes widened, and Yana wanted to cry at her own cruelty. He would never ever neglect his duty, she knew. "Your duty is to the Empire, Counselor," she continued. "You should have realized that. I am certain that Moff Kima has explained to you the choices we face, and his motives."

"Your Highness," he mumbled, his tone slurred, as he tried to form coherent words, but Yana interrupted him instantly. 

"Silence! You will cooperate! I am Empress, and I order you to assist Moff Kima in any way he might require. Is that clear?"

He did not react, only stared at her as if she had gone mad. Then, as the depth of her betrayal sunk in, his face turned very dark, and his gray eyes became thunder-clouds. "You told me once you were not fit to be Empress," he whispered, voice choked with anger, "and now I find that I must agree. You were wiser then, Your Majesty," he spat at last. 

Yana found to her own horror that her villip turned into a mask of real wrath. How dare he assume she had betrayed the Empire! How dare he question her resolve! "You swore to serve my father, and you have sworn to serve me, Franzis Sarreti. You will serve me now too, or be made to serve!" she snarled.

"Is this what I have taught you?" he asked quietly, "What Lord Kell taught you?"

"Roj Kell is dead. He has paid the price for his foolish views and his crimes. Now," she finished in a low hiss, "I give you one last chance. But be warned. _Should you seek to betray my allies now, you will learn the true wrath of your mistress_."

She could practically see his resolve break, could see his eyes turn cold and dead. He did not understand that she was playing a charade, all he could see was that she had betrayed his trust and was using his loyalties for her own ends. She could imagine that his hurt came close to what she herself had felt when she had learned of Abla's betrayal and her father's plans for her. His pain stabbed into her heart with ease, and Yana could not help herself other than to close herself off to her emotions and to the past. Finally he inclined his head in quiet defeat.

"I serve you, Empress," he whispered. "Always."

Yana smiled at him cruelly. "Excellent. Then let us proceed and make plans to slay those who oppose us."

"There we are. Bilbringi," Han announced to his co-pilot, as the Millennium Falcon broke through the lower atmosphere and dove into the clouds that covered most of the planet's dayside. He could not help but feel relieved. He was so much closer to Leia now, and once he was back on Coruscant he would make sure to get her to make a few promises concerning his future assignments. No matter how much he loved his independence, he loved Leia's company even more.

Commander Al'than'erudo kept silent, studying the world spread out before them intently. "And you say the world was attacked and no renewed assault was launched?" he asked at last.

"As far as I know, no," Han conceded. "I left pretty much in the middle of the battle."

"Very strange. Lord Skywalker claims that there were two additional targets. But we aren't entirely sure what the attack on Bilbringi was supposed to accomplish."

"Perhaps they were just frustrated and had to take it out on somebody, 'cause you guys on Nirauan gave them a bloody nose," the Corellian joked.

"I do not think so."

"So, what is it you think?"

"I believe that we are looking in the wrong direction. The alliance Luke Skywalker has brought about did not happen coincidentially, it had been planned for months. What if this also has been planned for a long time? It takes a great economical effort to launch such an invasion."

"But Kell goaded them into staging that invasion, didn't he?"

"No, he merely dictated for them where to strike first. But what if someone else lured him into doing exactly that?"

Han did not answer. Indeed, what if? "I don't think so," he said at last, but his voice was hoarse. "I mean, who could have fooled the old guy? No one. And let's spin this further. What if that someone who thought he'd lured old Kell into starting the Yuuzhan Vong's invasion was simply playing into Kell's hand?"

Al'than'erudo gave him a small smile. "I must spend more time around Lord Skywalker, I believe."

"His daughter is quite sufficient for picking up that sort of thinking," Han mumbled. "But you're training with Chi'in now, am I right?"

"He has agreed to instruct me, yes," the Chiss conceded reservedly.

"And what's his mission?"

"He will be assisting Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo."

"A Syndic, eh?" Han chuckled. "What's that mean?"

"That the Emperor will probably lift the ban that restricted him to Nirauan."

"Oh." The Corellian grinned. "Things are really looking up. But for now, let's get down there and pick up one of Piett's guys, before we go on to Coruscant."

Bilbringi Flight Control assigned them a landing pad close to Lemit Zickorey's residence, which now also housed the provisional presidential quarters. When Han and Al'than'erudo arrived at the government building, they were received by Raisa Tobyn, who looked slightly harrassed.

"Welcome," she breathed, "the president is already waiting for you."

She stalked off toward a turbo-lift and the two men followed hurriedly. The entire complex was alive with activity, which, after the Yuuzhan Vong attack and the official recognition of the Conferedate Zone, was hardly surprising. They crowded into the lift together, and Raisa turned her back toward them to punch a set of security commands into the lift's control pad. Apparently this lift only went up to Piett's level under certain restrictions. Finally the car moved up, and Han relaxed somewhat.

"Has Leia checked back in?" he asked quietly, and Raisa favored him with a gentle smile. 

"I fear I do not kow that, Captain Solo. But we have received an emergency message from Coruscant just a short while ago. The president is going through that right now."

"Oh. So he's busy?"

"He said he will make time for you," Raisa assured him, and just then the car stopped. Unlocking the doors, the bodyguard preceded them into a pleasant-looking hallway. "We are here. Security protocol actually would have forbidden you to take your weapons up here, but since I am responsible for security, I have sanctioned it due to the president's orders. This really seems urgent news. This way, please."

"A council of war, instead of a council of peace," Tomas Piett sighed. "I wonder if the princess anticipated this." Leaning back in his chair he gazed at the elderly man seated across from him. 

Lemit Zickorey, acting governor of Bilbringi, returned his glance with a casual shrug. "Things are constantly changing on the surface, but at the bottom they still stay the same, mostly," the seasoned politician assured him. Piett smiled.

"That may be so, but it does also change the foundation of the council we had wanted to found. It gives this a totally different spin, and in the future this council, if it ever comes to be now, will be remembered as a war council."

"True," Zickorey agreed. "So, what do we do?"

"We have no choice but to send a representative. I suggest Lady Fawl or else Anto Andorwyn."

The governor's brow rose in surprise. "Both are trouble," he told the president bluntly. "You know as well as I do that they were collaborating with Zsinj against Tious Markhan and are prone to betraying us too."

"Yes," the former admiral nodded. "That is exactly why I want them elsewhere, where they cannot interfere further with the legislative process of bringing this confederation into being. And I suspect that the other council members would keep a close eye on them."

"But that council... With the sources they are going to command, you are giving both Fawl and Andorwyn the key to using vital information against us."

Piett smiled thinly. "It is tempting, yes, but Senior Analyst Padmé Naberrie and I have an understanding concerning information policy. In fact, she will be controlling all information."

"So the council members will be charged with different departments, is that it?" Zickorey inquired.

"Exactly." 

"A very good setup. Each their own specialized field. What will our representative be responsible for?"

"Economics. Ah," Piett added, when a discreet chiming alerted him to the approach of his visitors. "This will be Captain Solo. Come, please!"

The Corellian entered right on Raisa's heels, and the bodyguard gave the president a secret smile that he answered faintly. Their relationship had turned into much more than friendship now that their positions were secure, and Tomas enjoyed her wits and dry humor immensely, apart from other things, of course. 

"Thank you, Raisa. That will be all," he told her quietly, and she left, not without sending him a glance that made him want to hurry this discussion, which he knew was impossible. With a regretful sigh he turned his attention to the newcomers, who were taking the vacant places in front of his desk next to Lemit Zickorey. "Captain Solo, Commander Al'than'erudo, a pleasure to have you here. We have received news from Coruscant and a confirmation from the Imperial government. The Yuuzhan Vong have attacked Byss and the Empress and Franzis Sarreti are both missing. Hah Kima is leading a provisionary council, and if you look at the set-up, he's giving us a clear signal to stay out of the Empire's affairs. The other bad news is that he has sent out a recall for all Imperial ships out in the Unknown Regions."

Inhaling sharply, Solo frowned fiercely at the report spread out before him. "I guess now we have the answer to our riddle," he told the Chiss seated next to him, "or part of it."

"Meaning?" Piett asked coolly.

"The Yuuzhan Vong are trying to isolate the Chiss out there."

"I object," the president injected, interrupting Al'than'erudo as he was just about to comment on the Corellian's assumption.

"You object? How so?" the commander inquired instead.

"As I said, the provisionary council's set-up is quite telling. All of its members were supporters of Tious Markhan, and we all know that Markhan's goal was not exactly for the Empire to become the New Republic's most trusted ally. The attack on Byss now seems much too convenient."

"A coup?" Lemit Zickorey suggested, but Piett shook his head slowly. 

"I believe it might be more than that. I have invited Anto Andorwyn and Lady Fawl to join this discussion, so we might see how they react to this news. They should be here any moment now."

For some reason Al'than'erudo and Solo shared a long, meaningful glance. Before the president could ask for an explanation, though, the Chiss turned his head to address him directly. "With permission, President Piett, I might be able to assist you. I have learned a lot during the past weeks about my innate abilities in the Force, and perhaps I can help you with identifying the reactions of your 'guests'."

Piett stared at the commander. "You are Force-sensitive?"

"I am currently studying with Master Chi'in, yes," the Chiss replied a bit stiffly.

Giving him a wry smile, Tomas relaxed a bit. "Even though I am quite confident that the three of us have enough experience to spot a lie without the aid of the Force, your assistance is, of course, welcome." It was a clear rebuke, and Al'than'erudo saw it as such, just as Solo himself. "Do not think that I harbor bias against Force-users," Piett continued, "not at all. Your offer is very considerate, Commander."

"But you don't want to be treated like a green kid either, eh?" the Corellian said with a wink, and nudged the Chiss' ribcage amiably. "Next time wait for him to ask for help."

Al'than'erudo nodded. "My apologies, President, I was not thinking. But I did see no sense in letting you figure my abilities out on your own."

"Very good. Nevertheless, I would ask you to keep quiet about those abilities outside these four walls. Do you understand?" He held the Chiss' glowing eyes for a moment longer, to make sure that he truly _did_ understand.

Visibly flustered, the commander nodded at last. "Yes, sir. I quite understand."

"Excellent. And here come our guests." Shooing both Solo and Al'than'erudo out of the seats directly opposite from his, Tomas waited for the two men to join Lemit Zickorey, who had already relocated to the couch by the window. "Come in!"

Raisa was accompanying the two nobles, who had brought two aides with them. The president noticed the frown on his bodyguard's face at once, and even though he felt certain that Solo and Al'than'erudo were quite adept at handling any threat, should it arise, he waved for her to come in, too. She took up position next to the door, while Andorwyn and Lady Fawl poceeded to take the seats obviously intended for them. Their aides, both tall humans, looked at each other and stood to the side, facing the trio on the couch. Tomas could not help but notice that they left Raisa free room to shoot, should she decide it. Somewhat reassured by that move, he smiled at the two guests politely, and Lord Andorwyn responded immediately.

"I see we are not the only ones to be let in on this urgent business you wanted to talk about, President. But to have two outsiders here, that is outrageous," he added with a disdainful sniff directed at Solo and his companion.

Han crossed his arms in front of his chest quite pointedly and gave the Kuati a hard glare. But Andorwyn chose to ignore him. The nobleman was finely dressed, just as Lady Fawl by his side, who wore her dark hair done up elaborately. But she for one seemed nervous for some reason. Redirecting his gaze, the Corellian took to studying the two silent aides standing opposite from where he was seated. Their faces were impassive, and something about them did not seem right. Then, while Piett and his guests were still busy exchanging pleasantries, Al'than'erudo rose abruptly from his seat, and gave the president a casual nod and a smile. 

"If you would excuse me for a moment?" he asked politely.

"Of course. Raisa, would you?"

As Al'than'erudo neared the door, Han could practically see the lady grow more nervous, and her aides, for some reason, seemed very tense all of a sudden. Reaching the door, the Chiss bent toward Raisa to whisper in her ear. Just then the two aides moved toward the two men seated on the couch, and Han felt very glad that Raisa had skirted protocol and let him keep his blaster. 

"Watch out! They have weapons!" Lady Fawl screeched, just as Han brought his blaster to bear and took a quick shot at one of the aides. 

Lemit Zickorey, unarmed, dived for a handy corner, while Al'than'erudo and Raisa attacked the second aide. The bodyguard took her time in targeting the assailant, who launched himself at her with an inhuman battle-cry. Her shot hit him squarely in the stomach, and he jerked around helplessly, just as Al'than'erudo locked one arm around the assailant's neck and jabbed his elbow into the man's face to knock him out. Han, who aimed another shot at the man attacking him, used the handle of his blaster as a club, getting the drift of leaving the assailants alive. Breathing hard, he stumbled upright, leaving his victim lying dazed on the floor, only to stare at the second would-be assassin, who was twitching like mad, as his skin was peeling away from his body, to reveal a disfigured humanoid underneath. 

"What in Sith's hell is that!" he shouted, aiming his blaster at the thing shakily.

"Yuuzhan Vong," Al'than'erudo informed him very coldly, and looked up to gaze at Lady Fawl. The Kuati noblewoman had risen from her seat, and her hands were shaking. At her side, Anto Andorwyn had had no chance to react, and he stared up at her, totally aghast.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded at last, his voice hysterical.

"Protocal forbids any weaponry on this level," she stammered, then threw a quick glance at Tomas Piett, who had also stood up. He was the perfect epitome of coolness.

"Raisa, would you please arrest her?" the president asked quietly, hands crossed on his back.

Just then Lemit Zickorey shouted: "Watch out, Captain!" and Han whirled around only to see a fist coming at him, before he was knocked half-way across the room, his flight intercepted by the president's desk. The man, no, the Yuuzhan Vong he had thought to have knocked ot previously, launched himself at Tomas Piett, who took a self-conscious step back, but met the wall almost instantly, trapping him. Han tried to make a grab for the thing's legs, but caught only air as the assassin vaulted the desk to get at the president. Only a step behind him, Raisa Tobyn followed, and together they crashed onto the desk, the fine wooden piece of furniture breaking under their combined weight. 

A blaster shot rang throughout the room and Han only had a second to see Al'than'erudo straighten from the now dead second alien and turn toward the struggling combatants. He needn't have bothered, for another shot from Raisa's own blaster finished the other. At exactly that moment Lady Fawl made a desperate leap for the door. Scrambling to his feet Han tried to catch her and managed to get hold of her ankles. She fell with a screech of rage and fear, but then Raisa was already by her side.

"Alive, Raisa, we want her alive!" Tomas Piett shouted, and Han, who was just gathering his knees underneath him, saw the flicker of emotion in the Kuati's eyes just before her hand came up lightning quick to snatch a decorative pin from her hair and thrust it straight at the bodyguard's throat. 

"No!"

Blood gushed from the wound in Raisa's neck, splattering all over the lady's face. Screaming hysterically, Lady Fawl tried to free herself when the short-haired woman fell on top of her, her body pinning her to the ground.

"A medic!" Piett roared. "Get a medic at once!"

Without another word Al'than'erudo darted out of the room, while Han gently but firmly drew the bodyguard off the still screaming Lady Fawl. Once the weight had been lifted from her, she curled up into a ball of fear and disbelief. But Han was not really concerned for her. Ripping off the sleeve of his shirt he wrapped it around the injured woman's neck to stop the bleeding. 

"Raisa!" Tomas Piett dropped down on his kees next to them and Han felt his heart ache at the anguish he saw in the man's pale green eyes. "Hold on," the president whispered, sorrow filling his voice. "Hold on."

"Traitor!" Han looked up to see Anto Andorwyn loom over the lady still lying on the floor. "You worthless bitch!" the nobleman snarled, true anger plain on his features. Before he could do anything worse than insult her, though, a contingent of security personnel appeared along with the requested medics, who instantly took care of Raisa Tobyn.

"Good thinking," one of them told Han, as they picked her slack body out of his arms and lay it down on a stretcher. "Make room!"

Two security guards hauled Lady Fawl upright and marched her out, leaving a dazed Tomas Piett and an outraged Anto Andorwyn behind. Han got slowly to his feet, drawing Piett up with him. "She'll be all right," he sighed, "but now I guess we know who we're going to send to Coruscant."

TBC


	34. Chapter 33 - Twist of Luck

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Chapter 33 – Twist of Luck

The approach toward Byss was slow, because space around the Imperial throne world was fairly teeming with warships. So Hah Kima had made his threat come true, and was recalling the fleet. Mara's mouth twisted in distaste. Even though she had known that this would happen, as per the Seeker's calculations, such selfish deceit still repulsed her. 

They had been ordered to land inside one of the Star Destroyer's hangars, leave their ship there and transfer via shuttle to the planet itself. A sound security measure that would trap them effectively. Of course, since they had official diplomatic status they had been promised that the ship would only be searched and then brought to Byss, but Mara would be damned if she gave her ship into the hands of some Imperial mechanic. She didn't want anyone to tamper with it. Still, if she did not want to risk being blown out of the sky she would have to comply. 

At her side, seated in the co-pilot's chair, Jix was idly playing with his blaster and his blue eyes were gazing pensively at the world looming ahead of them. "I do not like this at all," he said quietly, and for once there was no trace of mirth or irony in his tone. 

"Hah Kima won't harm us," she assured him. "He will be too busy showing us that he is doing everything he can to hold the Empire together."

"And he'll also keep a sharp eye on all our activities. We won't have any room to move. He cannot afford the New Republic getting a whiff of his betrayal."

"So we'll just have to pretend to be blind and deaf and dumb," Mara said with a smile. 

"And we're good at that," he told her with a wide grin.

"Don't be too confident, smart-mouth," she teased him. "Of course, on the other hand we'll have someone to create a diversion for us." She had again been impressed by the old Sith's farsight, when he had sent Boba Fett to Byss, even before the bad news about Yana Dar's disappearance had hit home. But then, from what she had seen and read of the Seeker so far, she should not have been surprised. "There we are," Mara announced as she let the ship glide into the open hangar and settled it down on the gleaming deck. Jix was already unstrapping from his flight harness. 

"Yup, there we are. And I still don't like it."

Together they made their way to the entry hatch and climbed down the ladder one after the other. Jix was the first to reach the hangar deck, and he immediately turned his back toward the ship in a guard position, with his right hand close to his blaster. Mara joined him swiftly and resumed the lead as a youngish lieutenant came toward them.

"Ambassadors Jixton and Jade?" he inquired impassively. 

"Yes. Moff Hah Kima is expecting us," Mara returned politely.

"Please follow me. You transport stands ready." 

The three of them boarded an Imperial-model shuttle and soon they were on their way to Byss. Nudging Mara's ribs, Jix leaned over to whisper in her ear: "They didn't even ask for the ship controls for the bogus search."

"They don't expect us to return," she replied quietly. "Damn!"

"Wanna take over the shuttle?" he asked lightly, eyes glancing pointedly at his blaster. 

She shook her head. "No. We'd never get away. Let's see what Kima has planned for us."

"And rely on some dirty bounty-hunter to bail us out of trouble?" the Corellian hissed angrily.

Mara smiled at him thinly. "Don't be so damn stubborn. None of us is playing with open cards anyway."

"Well, I prefer the straight approach," he told her indignatly, then added: "Mostly."

But Mara did not feel like appreciating his sense of humor. She remembered all too well their last visit to the Imperial throne world, where they had been goaded straight into a trap set for them by Tious Markhan. Apparently Hah Kima was thinking along the same lines the late Grand Admiral had, but he was not nearly as smart as Markhan had been. Which again undermined the fact that Kima was a pawn, not the initiator of this coup. The Seeker had informed them that Hah Kima would follow the late Emperor's directive in collaborating with the Yuuzhan Vong, and that he would not make any independent decision, contrary to Franzis Sarreti, Mara thought. 

The Empress' counselor had modified his master's plan to fit the current events, whereas Hah Kima was playing blindly into the hands of a very shrewd and ruthless alien race that only sought to use him. No one could be quite as stupid, not even an Imperial agent. If Hah Kima continued that way nothing would be left of the Emperor's legacy at all. Yet Mara supposed that the Yuuzhan Vong had promised him to leave the Empire alone once they had pushed their own scheme through. Padmé Naberrie had also suggested as much, just as the Seeker. 

Perhaps playing that card would give them an edge over the moff. He would try to verify that information with his 'allies', who of course would deny any such thing. But it would plant seeds of doubt in Kima's mind, and ultimately every living being followed only one directive: survival. Very few were ready to die for their ideals, and Hah Kima had not struck her as one of that caliber. He seemed more of an opportunist, who thought himself very clever. Well, they would see which one of them would flinch first in the match ahead. Relaxing a fraction, Mara gave Jix a tight smile that he returned with a wink. 

After twenty minutes more they had finally reached Byss, and an 'honorary guard' was awaiting them in the main hangar of the port. It was not the main citadel, and a glance at the ruins of the fortress confirmed at least that there really had been a battle on Byss. Following the lieutenant wordlessly, the two of them kept a wary eye on everything, and Mara extended her senses outward to get a feel for the place. There was anxiety aplenty, fear, and residues of pain and suffering. She remembered her first visit to Byss, where she had had to go through the agony of experiencing Sarreti's breaking through the Force. Tious Markhan had had the agent tortured to learn the exact nature of his original assignment and plans. Not that the information he had gained then had managed to save him in the end. When the lieutenant led them toward the same meeting room where Tious Markhan had welcomed his captives, Mara almost smiled. So, it would seem as if the late Grand Admiral had had an admirer in Hah Kima. Who would have thought?

They entered together, and found Hah Kima with his back toward them, apparently lost in studying a star chart displayed on the center screen dominating the room's far wall. It depicted the Unknown Regions, a very specific sector. Mara squinted at the screen, but she had too little knowledge of the region to hazard an educated guess as to what was so special about this feature. Once the door had closed behind them Hah Kima turned toward them with a pleasant smile. Somehow, seeing him up close, with his blue eyes eerily calm, Mara had sudden doubts as to her calculation of the man's abilities and intellect. But maybe the moff was simply too arrogant to see his own failings?

"Welcome," he said faintly, then gestured toward the table. "Please, take a seat. The rest of the council will be with us shortly."

Mara took a chair slowly, and addressed Kima directly. "Forgive me, but I had expected to find them already here. Why the delay?"

"Very observant. Of course," he replied, the thin smile still in place. "I merely wished to give you a chance to grow accustomed to the setting. This is your first diplomatic mission, as I am given to understand."

"True. And, if I may, what is the meaning of this display?" she asked, not bothering to hide her contempt at his weak attempts of manipulation.

"Almashin, one of the Chiss' capital worlds," he said, suddenly thoughtful. "I have recalled the fleet from the Unknown Regions for now, but the Grand Admiral has set an ultimatum that I cannot ignore."

"An ultimatum?" This was new, and the Seeker hadn't mentioned it either. In fact, the Seeker had been very reluctant in predicting Thrawn's moves, she found only now. Was this bait for the enemy? Or was it for real?

"Yes. Apparently he will draw his forces together at Almashin. I do not know what he has planned from there on, though. The Grand Admiral demanded a clear answer to his request of continued assistance. If we choose to remain allied with him we are to send the fleet contingent back to join him at Almashin. A tricky choice, with the threat of renewed attacks on the Empire having reached us just today."

"New attacks?" Mara asked, very conscious of the fact that she was doing all the talking. "What confirmation did you gain?"

Hah Kima gave her a pained glance. "A message from home. Apparently enemy scoutships have been sighted close to Anobis."

"Oh." Sitting back, Mara pondered the implications. Either this personal twist was meant to appease her, or else Anobis truly was in danger, and they would experience a pleasant surprise in the meeting ahead. "So you will be sending part of your forces to your homeplanet?"

He sighed. "I am not certain what would be the wise choice, strategically, I mean. I am no warrior, I am an administrator."

"Then perhaps you should consult the Grand Admiral on your next move," she suggested earnestly. 

He shook his head. "No. He made it quite clear that he does not wish any more transmission to occur between Byss and his fleet. Security reasons, I assume. Therefore I would value your input, yours and that of your navy command."

Ah. So that was the game. He wanted to know how the New Republic would respond, whether they would send reinforcements to Almashin or not. She gave him a bright little smile :"We will, of course, do everything we can to help you."

Jix was content to sort of lean back and let Mara do the talking. She was usually better at it anyway. But when the rest of the council Hah Kima had been going on about trundled into the conference room he was hard-pressed to keep calm. Each one of them regarded the New Republic ambassadors with such undisguised malice and contempt that the Corellian was very tempted to wipe that expression permanently from their faces. With a blaster, preferably. Yet Mara kept admiringly cool. 

"Now that we are all present," Hah Kima said cheerfully, "we should begin right away. As I have already informed you, ladies and gentlemen, the Grand Admiral is gathering his troops at Almashin. Now we have to decide how to respond. Ambassadors Jixton and Jade are here to give us some input, should the need arise. Please, your suggestions."

"I am all for keeping our fleet where it is now," one of the assembled councilors stated harshly. "We have to see to our own interests first. These aliens have already caught us by surprise, and I do not want to have that repeated."

"I second Moff Mutha's opinion," another said gravely. "And I am not too worried about the Grand Admiral's chances of success. He is, after all, a Grand Admiral, and acclaimed the best of all."

"Exactly! The Chiss do not need our assistance. I say we do not move even one supply ship to Almashin!"

The conversation ran along those lines for a couple of minutes more, before Mara rose from her seat and Jix followed suite. At the questioning glances directed at them the former Emperor's Hand explained: "Since you have already made up your mind I do not see any real need for staying any longer. Coming here was obviously a waste of time."

"Yeah," Jix muttered. "If they're so independent, why don't we just leave them to those damn Yuuzhan Vong." Aloud he said: "I suppose the Empire has no use of the New Republic's assistance either, be it military or intelligence."

"Intelligence? You have some information we might not have?" Hah Kima asked, making a fair attempt at sounding surprised.

"Yeah," Jix grinned. "Tons of it."

"Is there anything of use to us?"

"Hardly. I mean, since you're all so eager to fight this war on your own..." The assembly gave him very cold stares. "And since you're so confident in the Grand Admiral's success you'll hardly worry about what he'll have to say to your sense of team-work."

"The Grand Admiral is a sensible man who understands our concerns," Hah Kima admonished him sternly. "He has told me so himself."

"Yet you also admitted that he has set an ultimatum," Mara reminded the moff. "One I would not take lightly."

Hah Kima stiffened. "I am well aware of that, but I will do anything in my power to ensure the Empire's continued existence."

"Do you now. Does that include collaborating with the enemy?" Jix winced at her dropping the bomb so abruptly. Everyone except the two of them froze. 

"You dare come here and insult us!" one of the councilors exclaimed, his face red with outrage. 

"As it is, we have been made aware of such activities on your part by a very reliable source," Mara continued, unpertubed, "Roj Kell."

"Impossible!" Hah Kima claimed.

Jix put a hand on the handle of his blaster with a wide grin. "Wanna elaborate on that?"

"What! Why should I owe you any explanation!"

"Right, we don't need one," Jix told the man sincerely. 

But Hah Kima regained his composure quickly. Rising from his seat, he nodded at a guard stationed by the door. "You will soon learn that we are acting only with the consent of the highest authority. Our duty is to our people."

Jix frowned. "What exactly do you mean?"

"What he means, Mister Jixton, is that a change of allies is always favorable to certain extinction," a familiar voice intoned tiredly, and the Corellian turned his head sharply to glare at the newcomer, who was being helped into the conference room by two aides. 

By the look of him, it was a wonder that they didn't need to use a stretcher to move him in. Franzis Sarreti's face was so pale that it had taken on an unhealthy complexion, and his gray eyes were without emotion. He walked like an old man, slowly, carefully, and Jix nearly jumped, when Mara dug her fingers into his arm, squeezing his flesh painfully. He could hear her moan under her breath, and felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't need the Force to see that Sarreti was a broken man, that he was probably in so much pain that he didn't even care anymore. Dropping into one of the vacant seats, the former counselor exhaled slowly, and for a moment Jix thought he might forget to take another breath. 

"And do you share that view," Jix asked hoarsely, feeling Mara tense at his side.

Franzis Sarreti managed a tiny smile. "Do I share it? My first duty is to the Empire. First and foremost. That is the truth of it."

"But you must know that the Yuuzhan Vong won't hold to their promises!" Mara blurted out suddenly.

The counselor's face grew slack. "You must understand," he whispered, "not every choice is an easy one. If you seek to survive another day you do not dare think further than tomorrow."

"You must be kidding!" Jix told the man, but Mara nudged him ever so slight.y

"We quite understand, Counselor," she explained. "Nevertheless, you will only postpone the inevitable for another day. Even if they manage to defeat Thrawn at Almashin, and I doubt that strongly, even if they manage to hold their own against the New Republic, do you believe they will truly spare you?"

"The Unknown Regions are vast," Sarreti answered, his lips twitching. "And Roj Kell is dead. Your information, Mister Jixton, is a ruse. Bait to trick us."

"What – Dead?" Jix found himself wondering aloud. How could Sarreti know? 

"How do you want to know?" Mara asked, frowning. 

"The Empress informed me," Sarreti sighed. "Apparently he died honorably, or so it is said, at the hands of Warmaster Marayl Carr."

"The Empress? Moff Kima claimed you and the Empress had gone missing, obviously a lie. Why should we believe anything you say? You have proven your true intentions just now, and although I do not expect that knowledge to be of much use to us now, I wonder why you did not simply blow our ship up and be done with it," Mara answered coldly. "So what is it you really want?"

"Just as Moff Kima suggested," the counselor replied, and Jix thought there was just a hint of something in his eyes. Hope? "You must work with us," he breathed at last. 

And then Jix got it. Or at least he thought he did. What Sarreti was really trying to tell them was that he needed their help. In one swift move Jix had unholstered his blaster, and before the guard at the door could give alarm he was already dead. "Seal the door!" the Corellian ordered Mara briskly, as he pointed his weapon straight at Hah Kima. "No more chit-chatting," he growled. 

"This conference room is under constant surveillance, Mister Jixton," Hah Kima informed him mildly. "You cannot possibly hope to get away with this."

Jix shrugged. "Sure I can. Got that door sealed?"

"Yes."

"Right. Then I would ask the gentlemen over there to move away from the screen. Mara, get rid of the cameras. All the cameras."

"You won't get away with this," Hah Kima hissed, now truly furious. 

Jix ignored him and blasted the screen. The assembly scattered as one, seeking cover from the shrapnel flying around. Vaulting the conference table, the Corellian strode over to the ruined machinery and nodded to himself when he saw that it indeed had hidden a service well. "This is our way out." Then, with an evil smile on his face, he turned back toward the 'council': "Now, what to do with you?"

"Jix! We have to get out!" Mara snarled and pushed past him. She checked the service well with an expert eye, then hunched her shoulders to gain access into the cramped corridor. "Come on!"

"What about Sarreti?" he called back.

"Leave him, and stun the others," she ordered, unholstering her BlasTech. Behind her she could hear some protests, but they were quickly quelled by the sound of Jix' blaster. He joined her in the well and wrinkled his nose. 

"Cozy. Do you know which way we have to go?"

Mara shrugged. "Anywhere but here will suit me just fine." Just then a loud booming noise told them that a few stormtroopers were keen on joining the meeting. "Let's hurry."

She squeezed past a cable array and ducked underneath another, focusing her senses ahead. Perhaps they could somehow get into the ventilation system and find a way out from there. Provided, of course, that the entrance to the service well was blocked, somehow, and if she considered the average security protocol of an Imperial garrison, that would be the case here. Now, she was certain that there had to be ventilation close by, to cool all the mechanical equipment installed into that conference room. Looking up, she saw a grid that looked promising. She turned toward Jix and gestured up.

"Give me a hand here, will you," she asked and he hoisted her up so she could reach the grid. It wasn't secured. Good. Working it out of its frame was easy, and she let it clatter to the floor unceremoniously. Just then someone started shooting, and she found herself being pushed into the ventilation shaft by Jix' able but decidedly ungentle hands. "Jix!"

So the troopers had already broken through, Jix would never make it up here. He'd have to find another way. Setting her mouth in a grim line, Mara holstered her blaster again and started down the ventilation shaft, following the breeze of fresh air. Underneath her the shooting continued, then died abruptly. She tensed, but continued after a short break during which nothing happened. Then there was something that sounded like running feet, and she smiled, when she could sense Jix' presense, focused and determined. He would be okay by himself. Crawling around a corner, Mara raised her brows when she found that she had hit a vertical shaft. 

Carefully balancing her weight, she made a lunge for the opposite ledge, where the horizontal shaft continued, but just as she did so, a warning tingle started in the back of her head. Too late. A hard gust of exhaust air from underneath lost her her purchase and she plunged into the vertical shaft unchecked. Frantically searching for a way to stop her fall she found a safety ladder and her arms felt as if they were being torn from their sockets when she held on. She suppressed a scream and hung there for a moment to catch her breath. Then, with a supreme effort, she hauled herself up the ladder and found a small access hatch. She noticed that it had a security lock on the outside, but could be opened from the inside without a code. Relieved, she wrenched the door open and slipped into a darkened hallway. Mara stalked down the corridor noiselessly, her senses sharpened. Even though she was not fully trained in the use of the Force, she still could get an inkling of what to expect, and right now that were a whole lot of stormtroopers coming her way. Mara guessed that the access hatch had been connected to some kind of alarm that had been activated when she had opened the hatch.

__

Damn.

Turning the other way, Mara hastened further through the hallways, and the changing decorations told her that she was closing in on the living quarters, which was not good. There were bound to be more people, increasing the chances that someone would spot her. She passed a hallway with windows, and almost smiled when she found that she was only one storey above ground-level. A yard of some sort stretched out before her, and a door at the far end promised freedom. She unholstered her blaster again and took a careful shot at the window, which shattered instantly, to her great relief. Checking both ways, she unrolled a slim cable from her utility belt and latched it onto the window frame before lowering herself to the ground below. She hurried in unhooking the cable from her belt, but she really needn't have bothered. Looking up at the sound of a blaster's safety catch being released, she stared into the googles of a stormtrooper. Two more were flanking him.

"Freeze," the one standing right in front of her ordered, steadying his blaster rifle against his shoulder.

"I would do as he says, were I you," Franzis Sarreti told her calmly as he stepped around the trio of troopers to confront her. "Give me your blaster." He held out a hand, waiting. His eyes were infinitely tired, but Mara searched for a flicker of something nevertheless. There was nothing. Handing over her weapon she gave him a disgusted look. 

"I had thought you'd be tougher than that," she grated out. "You cannot truly believe that Yana Dar is cooperating with the Yuuzhan Vong."

"She told me, and I believe her. She would not lie to me," he answered wearily and tucked her weapon behind his belt. "Take her away."

"Who is the traitor now?" Mara managed, before she was hustled inside the complex. A last look over her shoulder showed Sarreti standing forlornly in the yard, his gaze blank. Except for Jix he was the sole ally she had on this blasted world, she knew, if only she could beat some backbone into his head! Unfortunately she had a feeling that Hah Kima would make certain that she would not live quite that long.

"Drop your weapons."

The voice was low, and had a mechanical quality to it, as if it came through a filter. _Great. Another stormtrooper_, Jix thought and raised his hands obediently, after he had let his blaster fall. It landed in a clatter of metal on metal. He had managed to get into the complex' sewage system, but he had had to admit to himself that he was lost in the maze of service tunnels, and had no clue how to get out of there again. Perhaps having a trooper here wasn't so bad after all. 

"All right," the voice continued. "Turn around and let me see your face."

That irritated the Corellian somewhat, but again he complied wordlessly and raised a brow when he recognized his captor. "Boba Fett. What a nice surprise."

"Is it?" the bounty-hunter asked casually, his left hand searching Jix' belt, while his right held a blaster aimed steadily on the Corellian's chest.

"Actually, yes. I have been expecting you." Jix grinned inwardly at the special joke he shared with the Dark Lord. 

"You're Wrenga Jixton, right?"

"Yeah. I didn't know I was that famous."

"Famous? No, just known, in select circles," Fett told him, amused. "You've been expecting me? How so?" 

"Roj Kell hinted at your presence here on Byss. He sent you, didn't he?"

The bounty-hunter chuckled softly. "A man full of surprises. Yes, he sent me."

"Any notion why?"

Boba Fett shook his helmeted head. "He said I would know the time to act, and I have a feeling now's that time. Here," he added, gesturing at Jix' blaster. "I guess we're in this together."

"Kell's dead," the Corellian informed him as he bent down to pick up his weapon. 

"I know. He told me. As I said, full of surprises. I suggest we get Sarreti and blast out of here."

"Sarreti? He's a traitor," Jix countered angrily. 

"Sure, just like the Empress," Boba Fett retorted, and the Corellian's anger deepened at the bounty-hunter's casual arrogance.

"Is there more you wanna tell me? Yana Dare sent you to get rid of Kell. Why didn't he kill you?"

Fett gave him a long look, probably feeling hurt at Jix' assumption that he'd not manage to get Kell anyway. "Yes, why not? Seems he had different plans. Said the Empress would be in trouble and he'd appreciate my help." Fett laughed. "Very convincing, that man. I almost would have thought he'd used some Jedi mind trick on me."

"So, what was that about Sarreti?"

"He gave me a message for the Empress, a holocube. An interesting message at that. And he said that we'd have to get Sarreti back on track, if he survived. So I say we go and get him." He gazed straight at Jix. "Are you up to it?"

"Are you kidding me?" the Corellian snorted. "This will be _easy_." He gave the bounty-hunter a hopeful look. "Know the way out of here? The stink is kinda getting to me."

"What will we gain by having the infidel leaders killed?" Alyn Cha was just asking, and Yana, who was busy braiding Roganda's long black hair, looked up to meet the priestess' eyes.

"Confusion," she purred. "Chaos. Even if those attacks should fail, they will draw in on themselves and leave us free reign to finish the Grand Admiral. We are selfish creatures," she added with a rough laugh. 

Her hands moved gently, as she lifted another strand of dark hair to wrap it around the three already gathered at the base of the younger woman's neck. Roganda had fallen into some kind of stupor, refusing to recognize anything around her. But Yana kept her with her nevertheless. She knew that, should she discard Roganda now, their captors would very likely kill her without a second thought. So Yana pretended to find amusement in the woman's torment. Studying her progress, she frowned, and let her fingers slip over Roganda's neck tenderly. That way she had a chance to delve into the woman's mind, to examine her mental state. But Roganda had drawn in on herself, desperately trying to keep her heart alive despite the losses she had suffered in the past. 

Her pain was Yana's punishment, for keeping up this charade, for betraying her own ideals. And it reminded her that she was still human. It was so easy to succumb to the Dark Side, to adopt the cruel, harsh views of the Yuuzhan Vong, to surrender to their rules to justify her deeds, to ease her conscience. Yet Yana denied herself that escape. She needed to be strong, shrewd, be everything her mentors had taught her to be. She had to live Sarreti's cold reason and unfaltering resolve and Kell's ruthless deviousness. She could not allow herself to think about what that would make her in the end.

"The Grand Admiral," Alyn Cha continued. "He is awaiting us at Almashin."

"Yes," Yana agreed with a tiny sigh. "A noble stand. With the Imperial troops's retreat he has no choice, really, but to seek a final confrontation." She looked down at the finished braid with a satisfaction she did not feel inside. But it served the image she was trying to build up, of an unpredictable, unstable ally that needed to be treated with utmost delicacy. Then, seeking Alyn Cha's eyes abruptly, she grinned. "He will perish, no matter how shrewd he may be. Once Hah Kima is dead, and Sarreti has gained the trust of the New Republic again, we can begin to dismantle that government bit by bit."

Grand Admiral Thrawn would undoubtedly deliver a crushing blow to the Yuuzhan Vong forces assembled against him. And here, aboard the Warmaster's own worldship, there was her. There was no escape for the Yuuzhan Vong. No escape from her revenge. Hesitating, Yana blinked back tears as she felt a tiny part of her self stand valiantly against the darkness that was invading her very soul, but she knew that she could not deny that darkness, or else she would not survive. The problem was, she did not know who she was any longer.

The Millennium Falcon had barely settled down on her assigned landing pad when Leia was already half-way to the entry hatch, wearing a huge smile on her face. Although their separation had not been a long one, after the ordeals they had passed and the promises they had made to each other, this reunion felt very special. She waited impatiently for the hatch to open, ignoring the icy cold up on the platform. In anticipation of Han's arrival she had managed to delay a meeting with Telmann Page, so Han and his companion could participate. She had been a little bit excited to hear that Han would be bringing a Chiss representative with him, and she was thrilled to see whether Anto Andorwyn would be as much trouble as she anticipated him to become. 

Finally the hatch hissed open, and she took a tentative step back, almost bumping into a nameless guard Telmann Page had assigned to her once he had read the select excerpts Mother had chosen for him to see. Leia knew very well that her mother was playing a dangerous game, withholding the entire report and its true origins. But knowing Mon Mothma and her attitude toward the Sith, the princess felt better, albeit very guilty, with Padmé's course of action. It would be too staggering, if Mon Mothma made a Senate issue out of this report, and all the information they had now would lose its value as the debates would drag on. They needed to act, and the president's current stance on maintaing peace at all costs was too cautious for even Leia's taste. Ever since having trained with her father she knew the value of striking first, and hard, but she had no chocie but to follow the president's lead, or else she might surrender her post as Minister of State right away. She'd probably have to do that anyway.

Padmé held everything she told Leia confidential, and she took great pains to avoid anything that might connect her daughter with her own activities once they became public. That way she sought to protect the princess and her reputation. Yet Leia knew, and she very much suspected that her mother did too, that they could not avoid retaliations in the future. That thought dimmed her good mood somewhat, and her smile had faded once Han pounded down the ramp and whirled her around in a joyful embrace.

"Missed ya!" he said, a lop-sided grin on his face as he set her down again. Leia laughed, despite her mood.

"Well," she replied teasingly, "since you are back I assume Father did not push certain issues further."

Han grimaced wrily. "Nah. We're down to first names now."

"Is that so?" Leia extended a hand toward the blue-skinned humanoid who was second to leave the freighter. "Commander Al'than'erudo, I presume? Welcome to Coruscant."

"Your Highness," the commander replied graciously, as he shook the offered hand, his tenor voice very pleasant, "an honor to be here." 

There was a tiny spike of jealousy Leia could pick up from Han, and she risked a glance over at him to see him scowl fiercely at the Chiss, who, Leia had to admit, was certainly a striking appearance. "Commander, I trust your will indulge a worried sister on her brother's fate," she continued, and Han growled softly.

"Certainly." For some reason Al'than'erudo's face darkened. 

But before Leia could inquire more closely, Anto Andorwyn joined the trio on the landing pad, and Leia withdrew a step to look the Kuati up and down quite pointedly. "Welcome, your lordship," she told him coolly. "Please, gentlemen, if you would follow me?" Falling in step with Han she asked under her breath: "Where did you leave Andarack?"

"With your father, where else? Any last minute instructions?"

"None. Apart from the obvious ones."

"Good." He turned his head to gaze at her intently. "Are we doing the right thing?"

"Why do you ask?" Her brow furrowed suspiciously. 

"It is just that I have a bad feeling about all this secrecy. It will take a bad ending, trust me in that:"

"It can't be worse than having those Yuuzhan Vong progress further in their conquest," she countered calmly. 

"I am not thinking about the New Republic here, what concerns me more is your family's fate." Leia gave him an incredulous look, and he added lightly: "Has the Imperial representative arrived already?"

"No." She shook her head. "What do you mean?"

Laying an arm around her shoulders he hugged her close for a moment and pressed a kiss on her right temple, before they passed the doorway and stepped into the Imperial Palace's complex. "You know exactly what I mean, Highnessness," he whispered. "We'll talk later some more."

Padmé felt actually a bit nervous, and had the fluttering hands to prove it, but when the door slid open to admit Leia and the newcomers, she relaxed once more. Favoring Han with a most confident smile, she rose with the assembly to greet him and his companions. Leia introduced the Chiss and the Kuati in solemn tones, and Mon Mothma greeted them just as formally. Then they took their seats again, and Padmé was pleased to have her daughter next to her. The as of yet not completed Council of War now consisted of herself, Leia, Han, Telmann Page, Mon Mothma, Al'than'erudo, Anto Andorwyn and General Seelac, who had taken up the post Tomas Piett had previously occupied, as Chief Military Advisor. The president herself got straight to the point as she turned toward Al'than'erudo, smiling.

"You have already sent a report ahead to inform us of the most recent developments at the front, which I appreciate very much," she began. "Is there anything you can advise us to do to prepare ourselves, should things go wrong at Almashin?"

Al'than'erudo's lips twitched almost imperceptively, and Padmé wondered about that. "Madam President," he replied smoothly, "Coruscant may not be in immediate danger, but if that battle turns into defeat, I suppose it is only natural to assume that the Yuuzhan Vong will continue their conquest. I doubt that they will be satisfied with occupying just the Unknown Regions. Theirs is a spiritual conquest, if you will."

"In what way?" Padmé heard herself ask.

"Well, Your Highness, as has been verified by different sources so far, the Yuuzhan Vong are here to reclaim what they view as theirs. They seem to operate on orders from their gods."

"Their priests, rather," Telmann Page snorted.

"Yes, General," Al'than'erudo agreed with a nod, "yet you must view the entire society as deeply suffused by religion. Their lives are directed toward their belief. We have uncovered evidence that links them to the Massassi, and ultimately to the Sith."

"Then perhaps we should let the Sith deal with them," General Seelac suggested, betraying his allegiance to Mon Mothma and her inner circle. Padmé's mouth twisted in disapproval, but she said nothing. To her surprise it was the president herself who moved to ridicule Seelac's comment, but then, Mon Mothma's motives for that unexpected interference were certainly of a more political than personal nature.

"While I tend to agree that the Sith would be the best choice to deal with these aliens, I must stress that the New Republic has an interest in peace, and the continuation of peace, " she said sternly. "Therefore we must prepare for any eventuality. Perhaps this council was ill-titled as Council of War, though." She gazed straight at Al'than'erudo. "While we certainly will continue to support your efforts in the Unknown Regions, we must also devise a plan for defending ourselves."

He nodded: "Since the Empire has withdrawn its troops, your assistance is doubly welcome."

"Very good. Now, I suggest we begin on discussing ways for us to strengthen the ties between our governments, to improve our cooperating with one another. Lord Andorwyn, I would hear the Confederate Zone's stance on this conflict now."

The Kuati inclined his head gravely: "As you were also able to deduce from the report sent ahead, the enemy has made a move on the Confederate Zone's leader, which was blunted by the brave interference from his bodyguard, and these two gentlemen." Here he gestured vaguely at Han and Al'than'erudo. "Therefore we must consider treason within or own ranks. Personally, I would like to see an investigation that will purge such disruptive elements before they can become lethal."

"Excuse me," Leia injected quietly," but we did not ask your specific paranoia. Tomas Piett has previously promised the New Republic protection and assistance. Does that offer still stand? Or does he consider a withdrawal, as the Empire did?"

  
Taken slightly aback, Andorwyn blinked his eyelids rapidly, before his features eased again. A smile appeared on his face as he steepled his hands in front of his chest: "Your concern is well received, Princess. While the Confederate Zone is willing to assist you, we have little to offer in military terms."

"Not true," General Seelac snapped. "Kuat and Bilbringi boast some of the biggest shipyards this galaxy has to offer."

"Shipyards yes, a fleet, not," Andorwyn countered. "Of course, we could offer those facilities to you, should you whish to use them as base of operations."

"Profiteers!" Seelac sneered. "I would have expected more from Admiral Piett!"

"I am not Tomas Piett," Andorwyn countered coolly. 

"Yet you represent the Confederate Zone," Leia reminded him.

"And its interests. I am certain that the New Republic is willing to recompensate us for the use of our facilities."

"You will find that we are not willing to do that at all," Leia said sharply. Andorwyn glared at her as if she were stupid, but Mon Mothma motioned for her to continue. "As has been stated already, Bilbringi and Kuat prosper because of their shipyards, and the industries tied to them. Both worlds also make for excellent military targets for the enemy. Therefore, Lord Andorwyn, a compromise might benefit us both. Protection in exchange for the free use of your shipyards."

"A reduced fee," Andorwyn managed defiantly. Leia nodded.

"Then we are agreed," Telmann Page sighed. "We establish a defensive front at Bilbringi and Kuat, and, if I may suggest, also toward Anobis and Yaga Minor."

"You expect raids to come out of Imperial Space?" Al'than'erudo inquired.

"As the president has already stated, we should guard against all eventualities," the general replied smoothly. "Speaking of," he continued, "Senior Analyst Padmé Naberrie has prepared a report for you that I would ask you to study closely. It will give you an outline of the enemy's motives and motivations, and his tactics."

Padmé began sliding the datacards she had prepared in a stack sitting on the table in front of her toward the attendees. Han caught his with a pensive frown on his forehead. The report was not the full report she had received from Talon Karrde, and in a recent talk with the information broker she had been made aware of the attempts on Page's part to uncover more about the report's source. But she had to keep that secret, until she had the council right where she wanted it. So far neither Mon Mothma, nor her staff, had realized that this council was no council of war. The war would be decided regardless of their decisions. All they were here for was to focus the enemy's attention on a possible threat. Once the Yuuzhan Vong realized that they had been looking the wrong way all the time, Padmé would reveal the true purpose of this assembly. But to survive that revelation she had to groom the egos of its members. Smiling at each attendee she activated her datacard. 

"I suggest we discuss each point one after the other, so you can ask questions right away," she informed them demurely. "And we can discuss each aspect together. Ready? Then here we go."

It was hours later that they finished their discussions, and General Seelac immediately went with Telmann Page to prepare a plan of action to establish the defensive front. Of course, such a measure would have to be approved of by the Senate before being enacted first. Another cliff to master. Meanwhile Leia accompanied her mother to her office, where Padmé wanted to prepare an official letter of notice for all senators, that would outline the basic results of the council's discussion. Han had volunteered for getting Al'than'erudo set up in the quarters provided for him as representative of the Chiss Empire. Leia guessed that Han wanted to discuss a few additional points with the Chiss, which reminded her that she needed to talk to him herself soon, too. 

The door closed behind them, and Mother took a seat behind her desk, looking suddenly very weary. Carefully seating herself opposite from her, Leia folded her hands on the table and gave her mother a long look.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly. "Ever since we left Bilbringi you've been constantly depressed for some reason. I suppose talking to Father did not help?"

Mother shook her head with a smile. "We cannot escape our destiny," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"I have always tried to stand for a democratic and liberal republic, that would offer even the powerless a voice in the Senate. But politicians are selfish. They look to the good of those they represent, or perhaps even only look out for themselves. It makes us vulnerable to outside manipulation." She smiled wearily. "In the past I have become victim to a number of such manipulations."

"You believe you have failed?" Leia lay a hand on her mother's forearm. "But that is not true! You always fought for what you believed in! You could not know what Palpatine was planning! You were confounded by events."

"Yes. That is true. But that is not what I meant." Mother's smile turned sad. "I have been deluding myself, denying my true nature. I am selfish too."

"What!"

"Please. Let me finish." Leia closed her mouth at a stern glance from her mother. "What I learned on Korriban and tried to forget over the past months, is that I can only be true to myself, including everything I am. I did enjoy serving my people as leader and in the Senate, but ultimately they hampered my maneuverability, and blinded my vision to what was truly going on. I was too trusting in the galactic leaders, trusted myself too little. Now I find I cannot summon patience for Mon Mothma's narrow-minded approach to this conflict, and I do not feel guilty at all at deceiving her, and the Senate. Yet I know what I am doing is right and true."

"And selfish," Leia added quietly.

"Yes," Mother agreed. "Very selfish." She shrugged. "But then, I am a politician. There's no denying that."

The princess leaned closer conspiratorily. "Mother," she asked in a low voice, "what else does the report predict that you haven't told me yet?"

Padmé's face fell. "I cannot tell you. If I did – If I did this conflict would never end." She shuddered for some reason. "Talon Karrde is trying to verify the validity of the Seeker's predictions. Perhaps we are simply misinterpreting the results. Fact is though, that once this is over, nothing will be the same again."

A knock at the door caught their utmost attention, and Leia saw her mother flinch guiltily. "Come!" Padmé called, letting her expression ease once more. Anja Dumilor, her aide, stuck her head in. 

"The president wishes to se you, if you can spare a moment?"

"Of course. Send her in, please."

A moment later Mon Mothma entered the office, which was a little bit cramped with the three of them inside. But the president did not seem to want to stay for long and made no move to seat herself. She was wearing a smile on her face, and Leia could sense satisfaction, hope and happiness in the older woman. She gave both the princess and the former queen an amiable nod. 

"Good work, both of you. I must again thank you for your dilligence and effort. Without you, I would not know if I could weather this crisis."

Leia rose elegantly. "Don't say that."

"But it is true." Mon Mothma heaved a tiny sigh. "Tomas Piett is gone, the Grand Admiral and Lord Skywalker are off playing at war, and you are the only ones who can help me hold the front here, in the Senate. It will be a tough course. But I know I can rely on you." Her shoulders straightened visibly. "That's all I wanted to tell you." She gave them another nod and half turned away, before she stole a glance at Padmé. "You are certain that Roj Kell is dead?"

"Judging from Commander Al'than'erudo's report, not even a miracle could have prevented him from succumbing to the wounds he received on Laa'kuan."

"Yes. I thought as much. A shame, in a way, he was a remarkable man. We probably won't be seeing the likes of him again. Hopefully," she added with a weary smile. "He might have been remarkable, but far too dangerous to let live. I never understood Master Yoda's insistence on sparing his life. Perhaps now we will be free of the Sith at last." Nodding to herself thoughtfully, Mon Mothma turned away. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow's Senate session will certainly be taxing." And with those words she left.

With a disapproving frown Leia turned back to face her mother, only to find her incredibly pale. "Mother! Are you all right?"

"It is nothing," Padmé managed in a low whisper. "Nothing at all." 

TBC


	35. Chapter 34 - Check

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Chapter 34 – Check

Mara was unceremoniously pushed into a harshly lit office, not nearly as grand as Franzis Sarreti's office in the citadel had been. Apparently Hah Kima was making do with what he had left. Seated behind a metal desk, the moff was seemingly recovered from the stun bolt and he was glaring daggers at Mara.

"Rest assured that we will find your associate too. He cannot escape us," Kima began without preamble. 

"What the hell do you want?" Mara retorted sharply, frowning. "If you think you can deceive the Republic you are way off the mark. We know that there's a traitor, and you are first suspect. No way they're going to trust your representative. Not even if it's Sarreti," she added, when she saw a sly smile spread over his lips.

"You should consider your chances, Mara Jade. The Yuuzhan Vong will win this war. There is no other option but to surrender, or else you will perish. As for Lieutenant Sarreti, he tried to convince us that he'd cooperate, but he has proven to be a traitor before." Hah Kima smiled nastily. "So we used different methods to make him talk. He won't be trouble, but I won't be sending him to Coruscant either. The Empress has suggested that assassins be sent to get rid of all political leaders, like Piett, the Princess, Joral, even the Chiss' emperor."

"They will fail, "Mara told him icily.

"And even if, I doubt Mon Mothma will dare send reinforcements into the Unknown Regions. And the Confederate Zone will likely seek a more willing ally than the New Republic. The Empire, of course, would happily offer protection."

"I see. One flaw to that plan."

"What would that be, Mara Jade?"

"Your master deceived you. Just as he deceived everyone else. But Yana knows he's been playing false. She'll take a different path."

Hah Kima shook his head, an almost compassionate expression on his face. "Poor, deluded rebels, always believing in the good of people. Yana Dar has no choice, really, and she'll find out soon enough that resistance is futile."

Mara laughed. "You don't even know what game is being played!"

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

Just then an officer rushed into the office, panting, eyes wide with shock. "Sir! Anobis is being attacked!"

"What!" Rising abruptly, Hah Kima clenched his hands into tight fists. "Impossible!" Whirling around, he snatched something from the back of his desk and put it on the table top. Mara almost took a step back. The roughly round thing was wrinkly, organic, and she guessed it was of Yuuzhan Vong origin. Hah Kima reached out almost reverentially to stroke the thing, and after a while it transformed gradually, molding itself into a face that bore rough similarities to Yana Dar. Mara gasped in surprise.

"Hah Kima, what is it?" Yana snarled, and when she frowned Mara realized that the Empress had changed more than she had anticipated. 

"Your Majesty, I have just received news that Anobis is being attacked! How can that be?"

"Don't act so stupid. You need credibility, if you do not want the New Republic to find out about your betrayal. A few sacrifices surely won't hurt your overall goal, am I right?"

"But you promised –"

"I promised nothing, Hah Kima. As far as I recall your deal was with Warmaster Marayl Carr. Do you wish to speak to him, maybe? No? I thought so. Have the New Republic representatives arrived?"

Hah Kima's eyes flicked toward Mara. "Yes," he grated out.

"Do they suspect you?"

"Unfortunately, yes, they do."

"Unfortunate indeed. For you, that is," Yana purred. "I suppose a bit more of a sacrifice is needed. I will send someone to – see you."

Hah Kima paled. "Your Highness, what do you suggest –"

"You are of no use to me alive, it would seem," the Empress told him harshly. "You have failed the last time, Hah Kima." The strange thing reverted into its original rounded shape, and the moff of Anobis hung his head miserably. For a moment there was silence, then Mara decided to make her move.

"Perhaps there is a way," she said cautiously.

His head came up abruptly. "What are you getting at?"

"You could prove your courage and end your alliance with the Yuuzhan Vong."

"They would exact terrible revenge on us for that betrayal," he answered softly. 

"Coward!" Mara snarled. "First you betray the Empress to turn her into a simile of her father and then you are too afraid to admit that you've made a mistake. She's right. You're useless."

"Not all that useless," he whispered, a feverish gleam in his eyes. "I think there is still one thing I could do ... Guards!" he called out and waved casually at Mara as two troopers entered the office. "Get her to detention."

Jix was quite impressed by the stealth and efficiency the bounty-hunter employed in leading them up and back into the garrison. While the Corellian knew as a fact that he would have managed on his own, too, he grudgingly had to admit that he probably would have taken more time. _Okay, but he's been here longer than you have been_, he told himself, _he's got an advantage._ Jix' advantage, of course, was that he knew their quarry. Finding Sarreti did not prove too difficult, because they could guess that he would be held in the living quarters, and finding a couple of troopers stationed in front of a sealed door was pretty easy, after all. The troopers did not have a chance to put up much resistance, and Jix managed to crack the lock in record time. They needed to hurry, and somehow working under pressure always brought the best out in him. Grinning to himself, Jix opened the door and slipped inside, followed closely by the silent bounty-hunter. Jix pointed toward the sleeping room and Fett nodded, before he walked off to search that part of the apartment, while Jix himself checked over the living room and a walk-in closet that seemed to house mostly trash. A barely audible sound from the door prompted him to spin around, only to see Sarreti drop from a stately cupboard next to the door, eyes intent on the Corellian. 

"Got him!" Jix called out to the bounty-hunter, just as Sarreti brought a blaster to bear and aimed a shot at him. "Whoa!" Ducking out of the way, Jix, made a grab for his own weapons. "Hey, we just wanna talk to you!"

"Guards!" the counselor hollered out and Jix frowned_. Oh no you won't._ Leaving the cover of a finely crafted chair by the window, the Corellian was just in time to see Fett come rushing out of the bed-room, straight at Sarreti, who moved aside elegantly, but slowly, a clear sign for his weakened state. Good. Cannoning into Sarreti, while Fett took up a defensive position, Jix wrestled the man to the floor, using all of his weight and strength. He pressed a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming out again. But Sarreti did not seem to plan on anything of that sort. He was just glaring up at him furiously.

"Got something to tie him up?" he asked when Fett joined them. Wordlessly, the bounty-hunter started wrapping Sarreti's wrists tightly together with a slender robe. "Good." Jix released the man and rose. "Now we should talk."

"There is nothing to talk about," the counselor spat.

"You're angry because you think Yana has betrayed you."

"She has betrayed her ideals," Sarreti snorted. "That's far worse."

"What if I told you that we know for sure she's playing the Vong false?"

The man's gray eyes flickered uncertainly. "She told me," he insisted hoarsely. "She told me I had to betray our allies. For her."

Jix held up his hands soothingly. "Okay. I understand. But she could hardly tell you to your face that she was betraying the Vong at the same time, could she?"

"I suppose not," Sarreti admitted reluctantly. "But she has changed. She – " He broke off, and fear flashed across his face. "She is turning into something bad, evil."

"And you still chose to serve her?" Jix commented. "I always thought you Imperial types were far too loyal for your own good. Look, you've been beaten up bad, and its only natural that you would assume the worst. But you know Yana. She's tough." Helping Sarreti to his feet, Jix smiled. "Remember the Seeker? It seems to share my view. Yana's setting them up for a fall, a particularly hard one."

The counselor closed his eyes. "I have been a fool," he breathed after a while. "I have been such a damned fool!" When he looked at Jix again the Corellian almost took a step back at the intensity of the man's gaze. "You're right, Mister Jixton." He threw a hard glance at Boba Fett. "You are willing to help too?"

The bounty-hunter shrugged. "I've got nothing else to do at the moment."

"Excellent. You could start by untying me," Sarreti retorted coolly, raising his bound hands toward Fett, who complied with a soft chuckle.

"And now?" he asked, sounding almost bored.

"Now we're going to gather some information. I suggest Hah Kima will do nicely."

On the way to detention, Mara picked up the sound of blaster fire from above, and smiled. Her escort exchanged a glance, then hurried her along faster as the wailing of alarms started assaulting their ears. 

"Damn!" one of them cursed, when they found the front desk in detention deserted. 

"Hurry," his companion urged him, "just take the next best cell."

"Yeah, yeah, don't push it." While his collegue held on to Mara, Moron Number One checked the cell status report and pointed at the closest one. "Get her in there."

"Occupied?" 

"Nope." Moron Number One gave the report another hard glance. "Tricky code," he muttered, but then the door to the cell clicked open. Mara was pushed into the windowless room and the heavy door crashed close behind her. Nevertheless she could still overhear the conversation that ensued when the warden on duty reappeared.

"What the hell are you two doing here? Have you tampered with anything?"

"Just checking, sir," Moron Number One explained hurriedly. "'Cause of the alarm."

"Gads! I'm just away for a moment and you come wandering in where you're not wanted! Get out! You can see there's nothing here for you! Go and take care of whatever caused that blasted alarm!"

By the time the storm troopers could be heard clanking away, Mara was laughing hard, and a moment later the door opened and Jix grinned at her. "Thought I might find you here, baby."

She tugged at the lapels of his jacket playfully. "Hm, uniforms really suit you. Perhaps you should wear them more often. What kept you?"

"Fett. Come, he and Sarreti are causing a bit of a riot up there."

"All by themselves?" Mara asked, suitably impressed. 

"Yeah. We'd better hurry to join the fun."

He handed her a spare blaster and started jogging back the way she'd come, but took a different turn that led them to a turbo-lift. Entering, Jix pushed third level, which was labeled 'Administration' and Mara's brows rose slightly. "We're paying a visit to Hah Kima?"

"Sure. He's such a charming guy, enjoying his company is always a pleasure," he replied nastily. "There we are. Stay sharp."

They entered level three with blaster at the ready, and found themselves in the middle of a heavy fire-fight. It were mostly strom troopers that were firing blindly at some unseen target, and by sheer luck Jix and Mara had landed behind them. But that didn't help them, really.

"Watch out!" a voice shouted from the opposite direction the storm troopers were facing, and Mara spun around to open fire on another squad that was heading toward them. Jix bolted across the hallway, so they could cover them in a cross-fire. Suddenly a loud boom shook the corridor, and smoke rose from the floor, where a grenade had hit the first squad. 

"What a mess," Mara commented drily, then used the opportunity to pump another round of laser bolts into the ranks of the second squad. Unexpectedly a trooper raced past her, covered by his comrades, and went into a huddle with the squad leader, while the others continued answering Jix' and Mara's fire. 

"Cease fire!" a voice bellowed from somewhere behind the screen of black smoke, and Mara's jaw dropped, when the squad complied instantly. Then Franzis Sarreti appeared, face soot-covered, with Boba Fett acting as rear-guard. The counselor gave Jix and Mara a grim nod, then zeroed in on the sergeant leading the squad. "Excellent performance, Sergeant," he told the soldier coldly, then waved the squad on. Following them, feeling slightly bewildered, Mara fell in step with Jix and the bounty-hunter. 

"What's up?" the Corellian asked quietly.

"A little insurrection. Turns out that most here would rather place their bets on Sarreti than Hah Kima and his cronies. Most are loyal to Yana Dar. Guess she's impressed them. Her disappearance and the Vong attack seem to have been a nasty shock, though."

They entered Hah Kima's office, now pretty crowded, together, only to find the counselor shaking the moff like a rag-doll, his gray eyes spitting fire. Blood was flowing down Hah Kima's face, but he was grinning hard. "You're too late," he pressed out. "You can't save her in time."

"You may be mistaken," Sarreti replied icily, then let the traitor crash to the floor. "Arrest him. Arrest his so-called councilors and execute them."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said with a nod at his soldiers.

"Wait a minute, isn't that a bit rash?" Jix asked, holding up a hand cautiously.

"Rash? We are at war, Mister Jixton. I cannot afford any sort of honor, morals or pity," Sarreti added acidly. "Now get out of my way, I have work to do."

"Charming," Mara said sweetly, standing next to Jix as they watched Sarreti stalk away. 

He needed some time alone, some time to get rid of the anxiety and defiance that had turned into resignation over the past few days, once the Empress had made her intentions clear. Only now he was coming to realize that his sense of duty, had blinded him to what was really going on. Franzis Sarreti remembered wistfully the ominous prediction the Dark Lord had made when they had met, that he would learn that duty was not everything. He had been right. But the disappointment over his own failure in waking a sense of duty and loyalty toward the Empire in Yana Dar herself had paralyzed him, had made him forget what she truly was, what she was capable of. 

Roj Kell had told him that she was more her father's daughter than she wanted to realize, but Franzis had interpreted that as her being prone to falling to the Dark Side, to becoming a ruthless tyrant, just like Palpatine. The object lesson, Yana's dangerous outburst after her half-brother's and Abla Othana's death, had seemingly confirmed that assumption. But now he was coming to understand that Yana's experience as an information broker had honed her skills as a manipulator immensely. He only had to play into her hands. 

If you seek to betray my allies now, you will learn the true wrath of your mistress, she had said, and Franzis gave a soft groan when he felt the true meaning of her words come into focus. She had wanted him to betray the Yuuzhan Vong, help her unleash her wrath on them. In a rare show of emotion he stopped his headlong flight to punch the corridor wall hard. Irresponsible, foolish, that came not even close to describing the way he had acted ever since his imprisonment. When he heard someone approach fast, he whirled around to face Jixton and Jade. Both seemed cautious, as if they expected him to order their execution too. Franzis smiled at them reassuringly.

"Don't worry, I am quite all right," he told them in a low voice, and tapped his forehead gently. "I just needed to adjust to this new information."

"Good to see you're adapting so quickly," Jixton replied wrily. "And now that you're so eager to give the Vong what they deserve, I can safely claim that we have a present for you."

"A present?"

The Corellian gave him a wide grin. "Yep. A special gift, one that only a very few people have seen so far. The Seeker's predictions and calculations on the outcome of this conflict." Jixton shrugged. "Pretty weird stuff, in places, and hard to understand. But it offers a few pointers and a lot of references Karrde is checking up on."

"You have brought it here? Are you mad?" Sarreti exclaimed, shocked. "What if Hah Kima had managed to get his hands on that report? If he had handed it over to the Warmaster?"

"I do not believe that would have changed much," Mara Jade answered quietly. "Have a look at the report. You'll see what I mean. Jix?"

Jixton gave a small nod, then theatrically started patting the pockets of his vest, before he bent down with a grin to work on his right boot. "There you go," he said at last, offering a datacard to the counselor with a tiny flourish. 

"Excellent," Franzis breathed, as he accepted that gift. "Come. Let's have a look." 

He quickly turned around, checking his memory for the closest data station and remembered that there would be one in the comm center of the garrison's administrative wing. Once he had reached the center he found a squad of stormtroopers assembling in front of the door, for protection. He smiled at that. Perhaps he had been more successful with introducing Yana Dar to the Empire than he had believed. A data station was quickly found, and Jixton and Jade stood to either side of him, watching with a mild interest that told him that they belonged to the select group of people who had already seen the report. On the blank screen a simple query path appeared and he inserted the datacard into the appropriate slot and called up the file's position. The report appeared instantly.

__

Alliance is founded between the New Republic, the Chiss, and a number of people, mainly members of the Triad Community of Laa'kuan under leadership of the Star People [Ref. Triad Worlds, Triad Community, Star People]. This alliance will form the basis of the Yuuzhan Vong's defeat [Ref. People of Death, Jen Motha]. A great battle will end the conflict with the Yuuzhan Vong, site of battle inside Chiss controlled territory. Outcome not determined [Ref. Battle tactics]. Variables: [Ref. Darth Sidious]. 

Activating the reference link to the name Darth Sidious, Franzis frowned ever so slightly. The reference link led him to a summary of the late Emperor's interests in the conflict. 

__

Chaos and control are the major elements of this plan [Ref. Sith History]. Three different variables: [Ref. Yana Dar, Irek Ismaren, Roj Kell]. Each approach ultimately leads to chaos, the variables [see Ref.] determine the extent and direction of the scheme. [Ref. Irek Ismaren]: Total annihilation of the Empire, separatist movements, turmoil and violence prevail. [Ref. Yana Dar]: 1) Stability will be restored, 2) Empire will grow to greater dominance, 3) Annihilation of the Empire 4) Return of the Sith. Determined by [Ref. Roj Kell]: 1) Not existant, 2) Ignorant, 3) Counter-Scheme, Result to 1)-3): Death.

The summary offered a reference link to Roj Kell, which Franzis found particularly intriguing, but the result was meager.

__

Ultimate goal is return of the Sith [Ref. Initiation, Biography, Liyuma]. Approach dependent on [Ref. Yana Dar, Cor'dan]. 

Clicking the reference link to Yana Dar, Franzis held his breath in anticipation. This was the most important variable for his own role in the scheme, he knew. All of his actions had to complement whatever Yana was planning. He already knew that she was seeking to betray the Yuuzhan Vong, but he did not know how. 

__

Choose [Ref. Stability, Dominance, Annihilation, Sith]. Most likely outcome [Ref. Sith].

Hitting the last reference link, Franzis found his eyes narrowing in anticipation.

__

History predestines [Ref. Jen Motha] outcome. Means [Ref. Sith History]: deception and adaption. Most successful strategy: The victim is fooled by outward pretense of understanding and cooperation. Include possible betrayal in calculation and plan accordingly. Use trust and distrust to sow discord among victims, offer assistance but instead plan destruction. Use ignorance of victim by offering alternate solution. Use [Ref. Roj Kell] to confuse victim.

Nodding to himself, Franzis returned to the previous screen and hit the link to Cor'dan. 

__

Cor'dan [Ref. Jen-People, Os'jen'thana]: acts as motivator for [Ref. Yana Dar, Alliance] and is instrumental in achieveing [Ref. Victory] or [Ref. Defeat]. [Ref. Roj Kell, Sith] to determine Cor'dan. 

The reference to Defeat proved to be particularly interesting: 

__

Defeat will be achieved by defensive stance [Ref. Battle tactics] and will result in total annihilation. Defeat will result when using an obvious ally for attacking the enemy. The enemy will learn of your deception and act accordingly. Defeat will result when [Ref. Yana Dar] is forced to act alone and [Ref. Cor'dan] determines goal [Ref. Compassion] and [Ref. Survival, Jen Motha]. One complements the other toward defeat. 

Franzis leaned away from the screen, his thoughts busily attacking the problem from the different angles the report had presented so far. So Yana would be trying to play the Yuuzhan Vong leaders against one another, using Roj Kell, probably his execution, since his death had been included in the calculations, which meant that her chosen victims would be Warmaster Marayl Carr and Priestess Alyn Cha. At least that was what he would do, but he had no idea whether there might not be others who led the Yuuzhan Vong campaign. Yana would also pretend to cooperate, and she had ordered him to cooperate too. Additionally she would focus their efforts on the New Republic.

He smiled as a thought unfolded. The Yuuzhan Vong were aiming at isolating the Chiss and frightening the New Republic and the Confederate Zone into inaction. So perhaps it might make sense to follow Hah Kima's plans and ally himself with Tomas Piett. Just for show, of course. At the same time he could offer the Yuuzhan Vong spies and saboteurs to aid them, drawing their attention on possible threats from within the New Republic. While he had no idea what the Chiss and the New Republic troops were up to in the Unknown Regions, he would certainly use the reference link to the Battle tactics, which he suspected would contain some clues as to the warlords' plans. But then he remembered what Mara Jade had told him.

"You said that the report would have been of no use to the Yuuzhan Vong," he began, looking up to meet Jade's gaze. "How so? If Hah Kima had gotten this, he would have warned them of the alliance that is gathering against them. And of Yana's betrayal."

She nodded. "Yes. But they count on Yana deceiving them. She'll do what she needs to, find her way, I'm sure. You will also have noticed that the outcome of the battle at Almashin, which is where it will take place, we assume, was not determined by the program. If you hit the Battle tactics link you'll find that only someone with a sound knowledge of quite a few battles conducted both by Thrawn and Vader will understand what is meant. There are no references in there. If you want the real prediction you have to think a bit further."

"And you found out where the real prediction can be located?"

"Karrde found out. You have to follow the reference link here," she returned to the first passage of the report he had studied, where it said something about the alliance being the basis of the Yuuzhan Vong's defeat. Activating the reference link to Jen Motha, she called up a historical report and activated a link that said _[Ref. Return], _then withdrew again to let him see for himself. Staring at the screen dumb-founded, Franzis found his mind go blank. Presented on the screen were the weaknesses and strengths of the Yuuzhan Vong, and creative input on how to counter them, including everything the program knew of how successful one approach or the other would be.

"Nevertheless, that was very risky," he murmured at last.

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

He smiled at her. "No, I guess not. All right. Let's see what we can do here."

Yana was frowning deeply as she pondered the previous conversation with Hah Kima. If he was smart he would rejoin the alliance with the New Republic. If he continued to be an utter fool he would die and Sarreti would take his place. If only she could find a way to reassure the counselor! If he did not trust her, he would work in all the wrong ways and blunt her own plans. No. Tapping a finger against her lower lip thoughtfully, she tried to imagine Sarreti's point of view. He would stick to his promises and serve her, and since his will was pretty broken, he would not even care to search for hidden meanings behind her orders. Which was the greatest problem she had to overcome. 

Stalking the expanse of her quarters, the Empress spun her thoughts further. She had been told that the Grand Admiral was drawing his troops together at Almashin, and Hah Kima had withdrawn the Imperial ships from his fleet, which meant that Thrawn would probably be badly outnumbered by the Yuuzhan Vong. He had had no problems with overcoming such odds in the past, she knew, but would his skill suffice in a battle against the combined might of the Yuuzhan Vong? She started chewing her lower lip nervously, and when a soft sound reached her ears she whirled around to face the door, that promptly slid open to admit Roganda. Black eyes blank, the younger woman slipped into the quarters and slunk into a corner to sit there, very still. Alyn Cha followed her inside, threw a contemptuous glance at Roganda in her corner, and addressed Yana haughtily.

"We will be joining the fleet soon to travel to Almashin. You are certain your plans will succeed?" she asked.

"I am certain, Priestess," Yana replied deferentially. "We will destroy their alliance and take them one at a time. But first, the Chiss."

"You have condemned Hah Kima to die, I hear. Why?"

"He is worthless, unreliable. I doubt very much that he can deal with the representatives of the New Republic."

"And you believe you counselor will suffice?"

"His skills are without question, and he will follow my orders."

Alyn Cha nodded. "I am certain he will." Smiling faintly, the priestess gestured at Roganda. "Ly Sul claims that there is a similarity between her and the priest. The blood contains organisms that Roganda says measure power. Yet Roganda is more powerful than he was."

"His power was knowledge," Yana explained quietly.

The priestess nodded. "Since she is of no other use to us, Ly Sul is considering attempting to shape her into a tool to oppose these Jedi," the priestess continued, a malevolent look in her eyes. "He asks for your assistance."

"If I can be of assistance, I will, of course, be happy to oblige," the Empress retorted, raising her chin high. "You are still testing my loyalty. I find that somewhat insulting."

"Once you prove yourself worthy our doubts will turn into trust, that I can promise you." Turning away, Alyn Cha left without another word, leaving Yana very pensive.

"They are suspecting you," Roganda said suddenly, and Yana gave a low yelp at the unexpected sound. Roganda had not talked to her in days. She strode over to join the woman on the deck and smiled.

"You are not angry with me any longer?"

The other looked away. "I heard them talk. Hah Kima is trying to blackmail you. He is trying to save himself. They see it as that, but they also suspect you of planning more than you let on."

"They would be stupid if they did not," the Empress breathed, thinking frantically. "Almashin is the key. We must defeat them there." She looked Roganda straight in the eye. "If we fail there, I do not know what I will do. But I will do everything I can to hurt them as much as possible."

Studying the latest report from Needa's secondary task force intently, the Grand Admiral was barely aware of the Noghri hovering next to his chair like a shadow. Over the past few days Chi'in had given him some valuable input on what he had come to know of the Yuuzhan Vong and their tactics while being their captive. And combined with his experiences both as a hunter and a Sith warrior that knowledge had been refined and become even more valuable.

"The trick is to keep our losses at least stable, or else minimize them," the Noghri said suddenly, and pointed at a passage of the report describing the maneuver Needa and General Hxenti had employed at Lounia on the enemy fleet's most capital ship. "In using the tractor beams he could keep their fighters at bay or else leave them vulnerable, should they decide to attack."

"Yes. Beating the enemy with his own strengths by turning them into weaknesses," the Grand Admiral added quietly. "But we must change the rules of the game soon." Leaning back in his chair he steepled his fingers across his chest and closed his eyes. "Our next move will come at Lounia. You will join Admiral Needa at Almashin and see to that mission we talked about."

"Of course, sir."

"Ever since Nirauan they have lost every space battle against our forces. They need a success, and they will try to provoke a ground battle. After all, they almost succeeded in wiping out Admiral Parck's troops at Nirauan. Only the fact that their Warmaster decided that conquest not worth the while saved our men there. They need a victory. If what Skywalker told you about Kell's execution is true, and taking into consideration what I know, we can assume that the Warmaster expected that sacrifice to yield some positive results. So far he has been disappointed."

"You are not planning on losing deliberately, are you?"

"No. Think about it. He will be frantic, since he has not been able to show success. His subordinates might believe that the gods have abandoned him. You see, his position is in danger. He needs to prove himself."

"And that will make him reckless," Chi'in finished for him. 

Thrawn smiled. "Exactly. Your transport is waiting, Master Chi'in."

"Yes. Good luck with your own assignment, sir."

"Luck? Oh, I do not think we will have to rely on luck just yet," the Grand Admiral told the Sith pleasantly and rose from his chair. 

Chi'in left with a smile on his nightmarish features, and Thrawn dismissed him for now, confident in the warrior's insight and abilities. So far Needa's secondary task force had been drawing most of the fire, and that for a good reason. If the Yuuzhan Vong were still unsure about the exact setup of his fleet – and since Hellermann's Chimaera had not made it to join Needa that was highly plausible – they needed to believe that they were wearing the enemy down gradually. And should they suspect that there were two different task forces the Warmaster might still pursue the one contingent that had seen more action and more damage. The other contingent may be well rested and well prepared, he would reason, but the other had more experience in fighting the Yuuzhan Vong too, and that experience and knowledge needed to be destroyed. The Grand Admiral smiled. Logical assumptions not always reflected the truth. And he knew very well that an attack on his task force could not be ruled out at all. Which was why he had to act first. 

Gilead Palleon felt strangely uncomfortable as, approximately ten hours after Chi'in had departed, the remaining fleet was attacking an unsuspecting Yuuzhan Vong fleet at Lounia. Needa's secondary task force had departed the site of their last battle already to go on to Almashin, and Palleon guessed that the enemy fleet was here to investigate the happenings. The enemy's firepower was overwhelming, and when the Grand Admiral had ordered an all-out attack, after having lurked behind Lounia's third moon for hours to observe the enemy, the captain had been a bit stunned at the lack of sophistication in Thrawn's approach. 

Now, assisted by Teer Shikay, he was managing the furious engagements his ships and fighters found themselves entangled in with the Yuuzhan Vong vessels. From time to time he would steal an uneasy glance at the Chiss seated in the command chair, calmly studying the set of screens installed into his chair and typing orders now and then. Sometimes he spoke quietly to someone on the comm, but Palleon was too busy to pay much attention to who exactly he was talking to. When a particularly hard attack raked across the Eisenhart's shields and some of the aft batteries reported damage, though, the Grand Admiral's smooth voice cut through the tense atmosphere on the Star Destroyer's bridge like a cool breeze. 

"Full retreat, Captain. The navigators already have received their coordinates," he announced calmly, and smiled when he caught Palleon's expression. "Do not worry, Captain," he said, amused, "everything is under control."

Half an hour later the fleet was working its way into an asteroid belt bordering the planet, and Palleon cynically told himself that it probably couldn't get worse. But then the enemy, having pursued them relentlessly, struck at the ships the Grand Admiral had deployed in a tight, single file formation the captain had thought insane from the very beginning. He had not even ordered the fighters to scramble to offer minimum protection! But then, the course Thrawn had the navigators plot through the asteroid belt was even more crazy. It brought the ships periliously close to the giant asteroids making up the belt.

"This is madness," Palleon whispered under his breath. Teer Shikay, who had been carrying out his orders without once voicing any doubts, gave him a hard look. The older man returned it with a proud stare, then ambled over to join Thrawn at the forward viewport. Gaze fixed on the radar, the Chiss did not look up. "Sir," the captain began quietly, "if I may suggest, this formation leaves us too vulnerable to attack."

Still Thrawn did not look at him. "They react to movement and heat," he explained suddenly, out of the blue, "and they have a limited range of operations."

"Sir?"

The Chiss' glowing eyes turned on him. "Space worms. This particular species is native to the Unknown Regions, but still pretty rare. One of their colonies is here, at Lounia."

Palleon gaped. "What do they live on?"

"Migrating mynocks, actually."

The Captain gave a little groan. "My stars. Now I understand. That's why you chose this deployment! If the Yuuzhan Vong want to attack us they are moving within range of the space worms, drawing their attention."

"Very good, Captain." Rising from his seat Thrawn gave him a cool nod. "Ready our laser batteries to pick up any coral skippers that might escape them. Once we are finished here we will go on to Almashin."

Kneeling next to Yana on the deck of the Warmaster's worldship, Roganda could sense darkness all around. She could sense it in Yana in particular and yet it was different than what she had come to associate with the Dark Side. It lacked passion and vibrance, was nothing more than a blank, bleak mirror of indifference. And yet she knew that a passionate fire still burned in the Empress' heart. Ever since they had made their peace again Yana had increasingly confided in her; not her plans, but her feelings. It was obvious that she did not trust Roganda to keep quiet, and still she craved a friend's support. After the bitter shock of Irek's death Roganda had relied on Yana's friendship to ease her pain, and now she returned the older woman's gift gladly. Of course, the days of uncertainty, when she had believed that Yana had betrayed them all, had curbed her feelings for the Empress as a friend, but they had passed that hurdle together. Now they had to take on the next.

Even though Roganda would never say so aloud, she could sense that Yana was slipping away emotionally. She might talk about her hopes and fears, but it was as if she were telling another woman's story. Her plight, that Roganda could understand so well, was giving the former Emperor's Hand a new sense of strength and power. Here was someone who needed her help, who depended on her. Irek had thought her useless, just like her master had. And the Grand Admiral had deemed her an ambitious, pompous fool. Perhaps she had been all that, but she was also a survivor. This was her chance to redeem herself, the chance Roj Kell had denied to her when he had killed her son, her only hope of salvation, before she could reach him. Anger clenched her heart into a tight, hard knot. But Kell was dead, Yana had told her, he had paid for Irek's murder. Looking up cautiously to look at Yana she saw a mask of calculated cool countenance on the Enpress' features. She gave away nothing. 

At the Empress' side Alyn Cha stood motionless, gaze fixed ahead at the coalescent viewport of the worldship, to look at an Alliance fleet that was fleeing before the might of the Yuuzhan Vong. Roganda's heart skipped a beat when the mighty warships of their captors unleashed their weapons on the Alliance ships as the two fleets drew into an asteroid field. Something about this felt very wrong. Suddenly a hand ran through her thick hair soothingly, and once more she sought Yana's gaze. Still not looking at her the Empress seemed nervous, but also determined. And then one of the Yuuzhan Vong operators rushed over to kneel before the Warmaster's looming figure, silhouetted against the viewport. There was a hushed exchange of information, then Marayl Carr waved a clawed hand at the three females behind him. 

"A message was sent out," he explained, pointing at the fleet ahead. "We will hear it now." He turned his head slightly to smile at Yana's impassive face. "A trap, perhaps? A taunting? What do you suggest, Empress?"

"We should hear the message," Yana replied coldly. "There is no guessing necessary."

"They will soon have reached the end of the asteroid field and leave its protection," the Warmaster purred. "Where our second task force will receive them while we crush them from behind. They are foolish and reckless."

The Empress uttered a small laugh. "Reckless? You have never engaged the Grand Admiral before. I would advise you to be more cautious, Warmaster."

Roganda felt her breath catch. That was the Grand Admiral's contingent? Suddenly fearful she suppressed an urge to rise, and chewed her lower lip instead. But why had he let himself become trapped in the asteroid field? 

"We shall see," Marayl Carr responded to Yana's challenge, interrupting Roganda's thoughts. "Here is the message."

It was an audio recording, and it had taken the Yuuzhan Vong quite some time to be able to receive and decypher audio waves, but they had managed, with Yana's help, as Roganda remembered ruefully. Had the Empress anticipated exactly this to happen? 

"This is a message to Warmaster Marayl Carr," a smooth voice, barely distorted, began, and Roganda recognized it instantly and smiled. "We, the Chiss and the New Republic Forces, will not consider either surrender of our troops nor quarter offered to the Yuuzhan Vong troops. We will fight to the death. Your outposts will be destroyed, your ships annihilated. This is no threat, Warmaster, and no warning. This is a fact."

"A preposterous assumption, Grand Admiral," Marayl Carr growled coldly as the message ended. "Your forces are weakened and few. You will succumb to us and be destroyed." Turning to his aides his mangled features turned into a snarl. "Attack!"

Perfect. The timing of the message's release had been simply perfect, gauging the Yuuzhan Vong forces to charge after his seemingly vulnerable fleet into the trap at exactly the moment Thrawn had estimated it would take the space worms to awaken to the threat to their colony. Moving on the Alliance ships, the Yuuzhan Vong vessels spread out, ready to crush the enemy in a merciless fist. But in doing so they alerted the space worms, primitive creatures driven by instinct, and drew their immediate attention. While the Grand Admiral doubted that the capital ships of the Yuuzhan Vong would be bothered much by the attacking beasts, he calculated that the assault would at least stall the pursuit, and in the best case diminish the enemy forces. 

"Commander, launch fighters now," he told Teer Shikay quietly, and the commander immediately relayed the order and, without waiting for the admiral's consent, ordered them to form a spearhead in front of the fleet. "Captain, the gunners are ready?" he continued, addressing his second. 

Palleon gave him a tight nod, and admiration flashed across his eyes as he smiled. Behind the alliance fleet the asteroid belt erupted into frenzied battle. Evasive maneuvers performed by the Yuuzhan Vong capital ships resulted in immediate punishment as they encountered either asteroids or enraged space worms. And all the while the ships forming the alliance's rearguard kept on firing at the pursuers, forcing them to evade that fire. 

"If I might say so, sir, a masterful stroke," Palleon said, fully sincere, as he joined the admiral again. 

Acknowledging the praise with a nod, Thrawn gave order for the fighters to speed ahead and attack the enemy forces undoubtedly waiting for them at the end of the asteroid belt. "We are not clear yet," he cautioned the captain in a low voice. 

"Sir, the fighters report enemy contact. They have engaged," Teer Shikay announced as he materialized next to Palleon. "They will need reinforcements. Do you want the capital ships to simply blast through or do you prefer a cautious approach?" he added, face impassive.

Suprised by the man's boldness, Thrawn looked up to meet his eyes. "I would have thought my orders concerning the fighter deployment had been clear enough," he said.

Shikay did not react visibly, but answered: "Yes, sir, I guess it was. But the enemy will anticipate your tactics."

"Will he?" Thrawn asked, brows arched in questioning. "And how do you propose he will counter my measures?"

"With overwhelming force, as always," the commander replied glumly. "We are risking a prolonged engagement, and defeat."

"If we force a stand, yes," Thrawn agreed, "but that is not the point. They will believe that this trap was the best we could come up with, especially since we have allowed them to trap us instead. Their arrogance will lead them to assume they can defeat us easily now, and they will set to accomplishing that goal immediately." He redirected his glowing gaze on the viewport up ahead. "You see, Commander, this battle is not about winning. A lesson for you, perhaps. Not every battle needs to be won to decide the war. And now, gentlemen," he concluded, as the Eisenhart burst between the last asteroids and into open space, where the TIEs were engaging a second Yuuzhan Vong task force, "we will proceed to Almashin."

"So, what do you make of it?" Raisa asked, hands folded atop the white sheet that covered her up to her waist, She wore a hospital gown that seemed as white as her face, and her eyes were tired. Squeezing her hand gently, Tomas smiled.

"What Lady Fawl told me," he began quietly, "is most valuable information. And from what I could gather from Captain Solo's report, our best bet would be to ally with the Empire."

Her forehead creased into a frown. "For show," she stated, half questioned. Tomas nodded slowly.

"Of course for show. I have already scheduled a conference with Moff Kima for this afternoon. Perhaps I can gain more information and stall him a bit."

"This is a very dangerous gamble, Tomas," she offered thoughtfully. "We are isolated out here, with the Empire and the Yuuzhan Vong forces threatening us from two sides. And if the New Republic does not act soon and draws ships to the borders..." she broke off, taking a labored breath. He stroked her hand tenderly, his smile deepening.

"That is the point. By opening negotiations with the Empire I can put pressure on the government on Coruscant. They will have to make their choices fast, then. And Andorwyn will make certain to describe our precarious situation in all details."

"And the Commander will add the gloomy news from the Unknown Regions," she added, her lips twitching. "And withhold the information about the alliance that will be joining Thrawn. A grand conspiracy," she huffed, "very worthy of the Dark Lord's last scheme."

"Yes," Tomas agreed, beaming, then leaned forward to press a kiss on her cheek. "Just like the old days. Of course, back then I joined the team pretty late."

"Luckily you learn quickly," she teased him, a fond look in her eyes. Suddenly her features slackened. Alarmed, he turned his head to call for a medic, but her hand on her forearm halted him. "It is nothing," she whispered. "I am just tired. I need to sleep."

Hesitant, he turned back to face her. "All right. Then I will leave. Are you certain you are all right"?

She nodded. "Certain. Good luck with the negotiations."

"Well," he shrugged, "if they go as well as my last negotiations with Zickorey and the rest I might find myself Emperor next." Raisa laughed softly at his joke, then nodded. 

"You'll manage," she told him. Rising from his seat he gave her another smile, before he turned to leave. 

She was recovering, and that in itself was a blessing. When she had been severely injured by Lady Fawl in the Kuati noblewoman's attempt to escape after a failed assassination attempt on Piett himself, he had been worried near to death. But now, with her health improving and the information the traitorous lady had provided him with, he felt very confident indeed. Leaving the medical ward of the presidential residence and governor's seat of Bilbringi he was quickly joined by Lemit Zickorey, who would surely become his vice president in the election two weeks from now. Even though the leaders of the worlds along the Perlmanian trade route had reached consensus on founding the Corporate Zone, Tomas had persuaded them to adopt a democratic principle of public consensus. Though he did not doubt that the inhabitants of Bilbringi, Kuat, Corulag, Chandrila and others would vote in favor of the Confederate Zone. He smiled. He had even won over Chandrila, Mon Mothma's own homeworld. But the smile faded instantly. Another reminder that the Rebel Alliance had thoroughly failed at providing a sense of security and stability after the war's end half a year ago.

"You seem worried," Lemit Zickorey, still acting governor of Bilbringi, commented.

"Well, I _am_ worried," Tomas conceded grimly. "But once we have talked to Hah Kima we will have a better basis to develop a future strategy."

  
"Indeed true. Here," Zickorey gestured to the left. "I've had the general staff meeting room prepared for the conference."

"Thank you."

The two men entered together, finding a few members of Zickorey's executive staff waiting. They left without a word at a nod from the governor. Tomas seated himself and gazed at the holo transmission field anxiously. Two minutes left until the scheduled meeting. The attempt on his life had worried him. Lady Fawl had confessed that she had acted on Hah Kima's orders, which meant that the moff was not only a traitor to the Empire, but also conspiring with the Yuuzhan Vong. Obviously he was the guiding hand that would sow unrest among the New Republic's allies to drive them apart and weaken them by isolating the respective regions. Sabotage was to be expected, and he had warned Solo to be cautious and inform Coruscant of possible attempts on the lives of leading figures such as Mon Mothma or Princess Leia. Solo had been uncharacteristically close-mouthed, as if he knew more than he let on. And Commander Al'than'erudo, the Force-sensitive Chiss representative to Coruscant, had been equally secretive. Tomas frowned. Though he understood the need for secrecy he worried that they might be holding back too much. 

"We're ready," Lemit Zickorey announced suddenly, and a few moments later a holo-image unfolded in the transmission field. To Tomas' surprise the man confronting him was not the one he had expected. 

"A pleasure to find you well, Admiral," Franzis Sarreti greeted him cordially. "Although I had no doubts that you would be able to thwart that assassination attempt."

"You knew?" Tomas found himself asking, even though he had wanted to ask something very different.

"What the hell are you doing there?" Lemit Zickorey exclaimed in his place, echoing his confusion. 

"Worried to see me?" Sarreti asked, brow arched mockingly. Only now did Tomas realize how ill the man looked, how emanciated. 

"Not at all," he managed. "I assume you have regained control on Byss?"

  
Sarreti nodded. "Yes. And I must ask you to commit your forces to my command."

"An alliance?" Tomas inquired, suddenly feeling very smug. That was exactly what he had been planning to do himself! "Why would I agree to such a thing?"

"An alliance," the other confirmed. "You must understand that your situation is precarious. The New Republic will not support you, for fear of stretching their troops too far. You are on your own, Admiral, and on your own you will perish."

Only then did Tomas realize that Sarreti feared that the conversation might be recorded by hostile forces. It was clear that the counselor was planning something, and Tomas somehow doubted he would support the Yuuzhan Vong. But they had time to find out what exactly Sarreti was after. A little time, but it would need to suffice. Leaning back in his seat casually he spread his hands in an appeasing gesture. "I am open for negotiations, Counselor. Let the talks begin."

TBC


	36. Chapter 35 - Choices

****

Chapter 35 – Choices

"This is outrageous!" General Seelac exclaimed, face red with anger, as he stood, watching Anto Andorwyn leave the conference room. 

The other members of the war council shared his confusion and outrage, all of them looking bewildered and shocked. The representative of the Confederate Zone had declared only a few minutes ago that he had been recalled to Bilbringi and that the Confederate Zone would assume a neutral position toward the conflict ravaging the Unknown Region, until they had resolved on a new course of action.

"I want a line open to Blbringi right now," Mon Mothma added, grim-faced, as she motioned for Seelac to calm himself and take his seat once more. An aide rushed over to establish contact to the Confederate Zone's capital, while the President of the New Republic fixed the remaining councilors one by one. Finally her eyes came to rest on Padmé's face. "I need not remind you that we are to address the Senate in half an hour to give a report on the status of our negotiations," she continued quietly, and Padmé could see how troubled she truly was. Guiltily, she tried to maintain her calm and said nothing. 

"I want him with us!" Seelac snarled. "I want him to justify his actions in front of the Senate!"

"We cannot force him," Leia injected quietly, "he enjoys diplomatic immunity." She, too, looked deeply disturbed. But not because she had been surprised by Andorwyn's announcement, Padmé knew, but because she feared what was to come.

"Madam, the channel is secured. We have established contact to Bilbringi," the aide informed them calmly, and Mon Mothma gave her a weary nod. 

"Thank you." A moment later Tomas Piett confronted them, pale eyes cold and face impassive.

"Madam President. What can I do for you?" he asked, seemingly undisturbed. 

"You could explain why you chose to assume neutrality just days after your representative's arrival here on Coruscant," Mon Mothma began without preamble.

"Precautious measures. Things up here have turned more hostile, and I do not want to risk a two-fronted war. I cannot wait for you to come to an agreement concerning defenses," Piett explained earnestly. "I am sorry."

"But I am certain that Lord Andorwyn sent you the first draft of the plan General Seelac and General Page have drawn up along with Commander Al'than'erudo," Mon Mothma insisted. "Our forces have been on yellow alert ever since the Ryloth affair, and we can move them at any time."

"So I have read," Piett agreed. "But first you will have to submit the plan to the Senate, gain approval and revise the plan once more. It is taking too long. Perhaps a declaration of neutrality can postpone an attack on the Confederate Zone until you are ready to intervene."

"You have been negotiating with the enemy?" It was Telmann Page, his voice pure cold steel. For a moment silence smothered every sound in the conference room. 

Then Tomas Piett offered a thin smile. "Our situation, as you know, is highly unfavorable," he told them, his tone betraying no emotion at all. "And yes, the Empire has indeed offered an alliance that I am considering, for now. That I _must_ consider."

"Traitor." The single word, delivered in a hateful hiss, cut through Padmé's heart too, because she knew that it was her, in truth, who had betrayed them all, who had made this happen. She did not dare look at General Seelac, who had uttered that word, and who rightfully believed the former New Republic admiral to finally have returned to his origins. The Empire. "We will bring this before the Senate," Seelac threatened coldly, "and I am very certain that they will not hesitate to condemn your traitorous ways. We have been forced to tolerate the foundation of the Confederate Zone, but we will not let it become an ally of the Empire."

"Enough." Mon Mothma, face pale, held up a hand imploringly. Then her dark eyes again turned on Padmé. "I believe there is much more behind this."

Padmé froze for a moment, then gracefully rose from her seat and nodded. "You are right, Madam President, there is indeed more behind this. President Piett," she addressed the former admiral, "thank you for your time. We will not be bothering you further." With a nod he ended the transmission. Now that every eye was turned on her, Padmé felt better. The games were over, now the battle was on. And she was the only one who could shoulder the responsibility.

"What is the meaning of this?" Seelac demanded, staring at her in astonishment. "You?"

Padmé nodded. "Yes. Me." She raised her head high, favoring each of the attendees with a firm look, one after the other, much like Mon Mothma had just after Andorwyn's spectacular exit. "I know the proceedings of the Galactic Senate intimately, and I have experienced first hand how slowly it will react to an outward threat. Internal squabblings, diverse factions and interests, all that would have elongated the mounting of a suitable defensive front at the borders of the Confederate Zone and New Republic indefinitely. But we cannot afford that time." She took a breath, allowing this to sink in. "My people, the Naboo, were almost annihilated because the Senate was locked in a dispute over trade and constitutional rights. Back then I inadvertedly thought to rebel against the Senate by opposing the leader of the Galactic Republic directly, knowing that I could not make time to court each Senator, each faction, and persuade them to hasten proceedings. I succeeded in resolving the crisis at home, but at the same time I unknowingly assisted tyranny to eventually rise to power." She nodded at the Chief Military Advisor, who had gone very pale. "General Seelac is right. The Senate will approve of your plan once this becomes public, and you will have evaded the grid-lock of bureaucracy. Forgive me," she concluded in a hushed voice. "I saw no other choice."

For a long while there was silence. Then Mon Mothma, her lips pinched in a disgusted grimace, deliberately interlocked her fingers on the table in front of her, visibly calming herself. "Very well. The Senate will be hearing your case, and you will lay open all of the information you have, every plan you have made, for examination."

"No."

"No?"

Padmé nodded to emphasize her point. "I am resigning my post as Senior Analyst of the New Republic."

"That will not save you from impeachment and prosecution," Mon Mothma reminded her. "Please, reconsider. You could help us more by cooperating."

"No. My decision was made weeks ago. Is that not so, Commander?"

Al'than'erudo nodded gravely in aquiesance. "Yes," he agreed and joined her in standing too. 

Padmé stole a glance at her daughter, who was staring ahead fixedly, but remained seated. Mon Mothma's jaw dropped. Bewildered, she sought Leia's gaze. "What about you? Will you be joining your mother's side?"

The Princess shook her head and squeezed her eyes close for a moment. When she opened them again she was calm once more. "We all must choose sides in this conflict. I choose for the New Republic."

Padmé smiled proudly, but the President was not finished yet. "This is a conspiracy!" she exclaimed. "You!" She pointed straight at Padmé. "I should have known that you would side with your husband. He has been accumulating power all over the Republic over the past weeks, hasn't he? Just for this! And you have been helping him all along!"

The former queen spread her hands soothingly. "Please, do not be ridiculous. Had he wanted to stage a coup you would never have survived the war," she reasoned. 

"Then what is this supposed to accomplish?"

"A stalemate," Padmé explained. "A truce. A beginning."

"What do you mean?" Seelac demanded.

"You may have asked yourselves why no representative of the Empire ever announced his or her arrival. The answer is simple. The Empire has fallen under the rule of the Yuuzhan Vong. Their goal is to drive our alliance apart, by isolating one faction after the other. The Empire was the first, the Confederate Zone is the second. Now they hope to defeat the Chiss and move on to the New Republic. I have spared them that effort."

"But – why?

"Deception. We have been manipulated toward this conflict all the way, now we will use manipulation to end the struggle again. I have been using you, that is true. For that I apologize. But I knew I could not win by force and had no time to try the diplomatic way. So I deceived you. But," and here she held up a hand to make her point clearer, "I chose to reveal the deception in time."

"Once we were trapped!" Seelac protested.

"Yes. But now you know what you will be facing, what choices you have. That is my proposal. A choice. I do not wish to force you to choose against the Republic or for war, but if you do not support us, your standing in the alliance to come will be very weak indeed. You would not want that, neither would I."

"A system of checks and balances within the galaxy, between nations?" Mon Mothma asked laconically. "This is your husband's doing, obviously. So he has finally made his intents plain. But why is he off in the Unknown Regions, and not here, at the crucial front?"

"Because he trusts me," Padmé explained quietly. "You should trust me too. I would never willingly harm the Republic. Which is why I have chose to interfere in the first place. And I hope that I have not misjudged your honesty and integrity. Do not make a public scandal out of this. It would break this new republic apart, as dissent broke the old."

Mon Mothma rose abruptly, shaking her head. "This is too much for now. I must consider this. I suggest we all consider this. But I want to inform the Senate today. Padmé, perhaps you can let me in on a bit more of what you have planned for us on our way to the Senate."  


Nodding, the former queen waited until the small assembly was ready to leave. Now came the hardest part, the one she loathed the most. She had no idea what would happen exactly, but the Seeker had warned her that disaster would complement her own strategy. What sort of disaster it had not been able to disclose. Or willing to. 

Leia felt tense all over and now regretted that Han had not accompanied her to this meeting after all. But he was not an official member of the council. If it could still be called that. Al'than'erudo had joined Mother willingly, recognizing the validity of her arguments, the noble intent of her actions. Yet he also realized the dangers their actions entailed. Mother had decided to fully follow the Seeker's advice, which, considering the program's origins, was very risky indeed. None of them knew what unpleasantries the late Emperor had sought to achieve through using the finished program. What if it was deceiving them just now? 

The Senate, that much was clear, would turn on both for this deception, and only Al'than'erudo was protected by diplomatic immunity. Yet his part in this conspiracy might strain the New Republic's relations to the Chiss immensely. Leia grimaced slightly. Well, they never had had any relations with the Chiss Empire other than with Grand Admiral Thrawn and his troops on Nirauan. And Thrawn was in exile. Had been. She was not sure what his standing would be after this war had ended.

Undoubtedly the New Republic senators would see this entire conspiracy as an encroachment on the republic's liberties, would accuse Mother and Father of cooperating with the Empire with the goal of reestablishing its dominant rule in the galaxy. They would be blinded by outrage and fear, never realizing that this 'conspiracy' was just a means to counter the path laid out for them by Palpatine even before his death. The only way to counter it. 

"Leia?"

Looking up, the princess managed a smile. Mother was gazing at her concernedly, but Leia shrugged her own uneasiness off. They still had the meeting with the Senate ahead of them. 

"I am all right," she assured Padmé and rose from her seat. "Let's go."

Everyone else was already standing, waiting for her. Mon Mothma, General Seelac and Telmann Page stood a bit apart from the others, making the distinctions even clearer. How she would deal with them Leia did not know yet. But she would deal with them. Definitely. 

Taking the lead, the princess strode ahead and out of the meeting room. What they would tell the Senate she did not know, but that was not her task. Mon Mothma would have to decide what she wanted to disclose to the senators at this point. If she kept silent until she had managed to come to terms with the facts they might lose precious time. Still, she might also refuse to act simply to punish Father and the Grand Admiral. But that would be foolish. It was clear to all that they could not let the Yuuzhan Vong invasion force gain a permanent foothold in the New Republic. 

Lost in thought, Leia sighed deeply as she rounded a corner and stopped cold at sensing movement up ahead. There was just a flash of something, but she could feel the presence's deadly intent clearly. Whirling around she looked up, where walkways spanned the wide hall that interlinked the Imperial Palace with the Senate Chamber. The white collumns and decorative greenery gave the hall a soothing look, but right now that effect was totally lost on the Minister of State. Al'than'erudo joined her carefully, his glowing eyes supicious.

"What is it?" he asked. Behind him. Mon Mothma and General Seelac had stopped about a meter and a half away from the leading pair, and Mother and Telmann Page had not yet noticed the sudden stop and were closing in on the President and the Chief Military Advisor slowly. 

"I felt something," Leia explained, her eyes hunting around the hall, her senses searching. There was nothing. 

Suddenly Al'than'erudo inhaled sharply and whirled around toward the president without a word. Startled, Leia noticed the shadow that practically fell from the ceiling only when it landed between the Chiss and Mon Mothma. The commander was unarmed, just like the rest of them, yet he still leapt for the tall humanoid rounding on the shocked president. With breathtaking ease the assailant slapped a powerful arm across the Chiss' chest, sending him flying into the wall to their right. Mother screamed, just as General Seelac valiantly pushed the president back to insert himself between her and the attacker. He too was pushed aside easily. Now the humanoid uncurled something from his right arm, and the snake-like thing straightened into a sharp-bladed sword. Leia's throat tightened when she realized that the thing was alive. There was no doubt in her mind anymore. This was a Yuuzhan Vong assassin. And to think that they had believed themselves safe here on Coruscant!

Telmann Page, more cautious than Seelac, had whipped out his comlink and was talking urgently into the receiver. Meanwhile Mon Mothma, her face deadly pale, retreated before her would-be assassin, who leisurely took up the pursuit. Mother stood rooted in place, a mask of horror frozen on her beautiful features. The Yuuzhan Vong assassin raised his arm high and attacked. Leia heard a 'ping', then another, but she did not know what to make of those strange noises. Mon Mothma screamed, when the slashing weapon tore across her shoulder and clipped her chest and abdomen. She fell in a crumpled heap. Just at that moment a rustle up ahead caught Leia's attention and she threw her head back, eyes wide, to see a familiar figure descend from the ceiling, jet-pack blazing away furiously. Boba Fett had discarded his crossbow for his blaster, firing repeatedly at the Yuuzhan Vong who had only now become aware of the new threat. 

Whirling around, he growled something at the bounty-hunter, who seemed fairly unimpressed by the ferocious sound. He let the jet-pack carry him ínto a hovering position that placed him firmly between the assailant and his victim. The Yuuzhan Vong laughed, a horrible, distorted laughter that sent shivers down Leia's spine. Inpertubed, Fett thrust out his right arm and a slim rope shot forth from his wristlet, straight at the alien warrior. With a grunt, the Yuuzhan Vong took the handle of his weapon in both hands and brought his blade around to intercept the rope. But the bounty-hunter deftly used that distraction to rip a broad-bladed knife from his belt and thrust it into the alien's unprotected armpit. The Yuuzhan Vong twisted away, but too late. He only managed to get himself ensnared in the bounty-hunter's intelligent rope, which quickly wrapped him up in a tight package, no matter how fiercely he tried to fend it off. With professional, cold-blooded surety Boba Fett dislodged the rope from his wrist and brought his right arm around to smash it into the Yuuzhan Vong's face. The warrior folded up soundlessly and dropped to the floor. 

Leia gasped in relief, and closed her eyes ever so briefly. She could sense a contingent of guards closing in on their position, called by Page, no doubt. When she could hear their boots hammering over the polished white floor she opened her eyes again, just in time to watch the bounty-hunter calmly execute his bound and unconscious prey. 

"Impressive," a voice announced weakly from her right, and she averted her eyes from the gruesome scene ahead to stare at Al'than'erudo, who was laboriously getting to his feet. "Very impressive."

Fett gave the Chiss a solemn, appreciative nod. "Just my job," he grated out and calmly began collecting his weapons again. He dislodged two long metal projectiles from the wall and floor – the sources of the strange pinging noises Leia had noticed earlier. 

"Thank you," she breathed, perplexed, and took a tentative step toward him.

"Freeze!"

Leia turned around, facing the guards down who had their blaster rifles trained on the bounty-hunter. "Commander, this won't be necessary," she informed the squad leader sternly, surprised at her own calm voice. "The assailant has already been neutralized." 

A moment later they were joined by a medical team, also called by Page, that instantly took care of Mon Mothma and was gone with her in a flash, off toward the emergency medical ward of the Palace, Leia guessed. Feeling as if in a trance she glanced over at her mother, who had not moved from where she had stopped. She was incredibly pale. Walking over to her slowly, her limbs feeling leaden, Leia wrapped her in her arms cautiously. "It's over," she murmured, relief pouring through her body instantly.

"You do not understand," Mother whispered, voice choked with tears. "I knew –" she broke off, then disengaged from her daughter's embrace and turned away. Leia stood, staring at her back in shock. She had known? How? How! Bewildered, she glanced over her shoulder, to where Seelac, Al'than'erudo and Page were talking to Fett all at once. The bounty-hunter, hands crossed in front of his body, seemed to listen disinterestedly. Yet Leia noticed that he was looking in her direction, even though his helmet did not reveal which of the two women he was really looking at. 

"Mother!" she hissed, laying a hand on Padmé's shoulder. "What do you mean? It's the report, am I right? You did not tell me everything, I know, but if you were aware..."

"I did not know what exactly it would be, but yes, I was warned," Mother admitted quietly. "I would not have been able to prevent it either, the Seeker was clear on that."

"Mother," Leia whispered urgently. "Please, you cannot let your actions be dictated by a computer-program! You have no idea what that might spark!"

"I know," Mother replied, voice breaking. "I know all too well." She shrugged Leia's hand off. "Go. Go talk with Seelac on how to proceed. Then talk to Master Fett. I will be making preparations."

"Preparations?" Leia asked, throat tightening in sudden fear. "What preparations?" 

"To leave."

"Damn!" Han exclaimed, throwing up his hands in helpless fury. "Why didn't you let me accompany you!" he added, rounding on the small woman seated forlornly in the too large chair that made her look like a child. 

They had retreated to her office to escape the chaos that permeated the entire palace and the government, ever since the attack had been officially disclosed two hours ago. Mon Mothma would survive – she was a tough one, that woman – and the palace guard had taken Fett into temporary custom, just to be on the safe side. 

"Why did she have to be so foolish?" he added, brow creased in worry. 

Leia had told him of her mother's chilling confession, and it had shocked him. He had always believed the gentle, head-strong woman to be among the noblest of creatures, just like her daughter was. He grimaced slightly. No, Padmé had had no malicious intent toward the president, what she was guilty of was much more innocent, and yet something that could not be forgiven easily. She had known – had known that disaster would strike – and done nothing to prevent it. But then, wasn't he as guilty as she and Al'than'erudo? He had not told anyone, not even Leia, what Tomas Piett had confided in him, what suspicions he'd had after the attack on his own life back on Bilbringi. All for the sake of the Dark Lord's plans. But he had been bound by promises, and Padmé had been free to act ... He sighed, then dropped into the chair next to Leia. 

"Say something," he pleaded, weary of her pained silence.

"What is there to say?" she returned laconically. "Fett was sent by Sarreti, who knew what would happen here, just like Mother knew. Once this connection becomes public – " she turned pleading eyes on him. "Han, once this becomes public they will be tried for treason for sure." 

Han didn't have to ask who 'they' were. Her parents, her mother and father. "So," he managed, voice hard, "what else did Fett have to say?"

"Sarreti is cooperating with the Yuuzhan Vong for show, and Piett's supposedly helping him keep up that charade." She sighed. "Yana apparently is also trying to play the Yuuzhan Vong, but can we be sure she won't be found out? And Jix and Mara are on their way to Almashin. The Senate will not like this. They won't like this at all. They will want to have a say in this, no matter how badly they've been outmaneuvered. This war was never ours to fight," she added quietly. "We always were pawns in a game, always. Pawns, nothing more. When this is over," she continued in a whisper, "nothing will be the same again, Han. Nothing."

"Who's going to take over until she's recovered?" Han asked suddenly, trying to get her to focus on something else.

"I will," she sighed. "I am Minister of State. If the Senate does not impeach me for having had an inkling of what would occur. If Seelac doesn't tear me apart publicly. Speaking of. Where is Al'than'erudo?"

Han shrugged. "I suppose he will keep low for a while. Keep quiet. Perhaps he'll leave once – once your mother leaves." He swallowed hard. "She's bent on going, isn't she?"

"Yes." Leia nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "She won't stay here to fight. She'll wait until the battles are over, until her allies are available again. Anything else would be foolishness."

"Smart woman."

"That she is," Leia conceded thoughtfully. "I hope she is smart enough not to challenge me."

Han's jaw dropped. "What? How can you say that!"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest pointedly. "I have made my choices, nerf-herder, she's made hers. We both know what we want and what is at stake. As I said, she is a smart woman and she will know how to deal with me, and the New Republic." Apparently noticing Han's expression at last, she gave him a soothing smile. "Han, I have to deal with her as I would with any politician. She's doing the same with me."

"But I thought – I thought you were all happy with the way things were. I thought your parents would be content to sit back and let you run things instead of them. I thought – " Han broke off, utterly disappointed. "Guess I've been thinking too much," he growled. 

Leia rose from her seat and stepped over to hug him. "No, you are right," she said sadly. "But we have to adapt to circumstances, and in doing so we also need to avoid the traps laid out for us. A difficult way to go, I agree, but necessary."

"What if it is a futile effort?" he asked. "What if what you get in the end is not the basis of a new beginning, but a one-way road to chaos?"

"That's why Mother is leaving," she explained. "To let us sort out things for ourselves first, before she makes her next move." There was a knock at the door. "Come!" Leia called, and disengaged from her fiancé. 

A Gotal entered and gave Leia a small nod. "Minister, the Senate meeting has been scheduled for fourteen hours," he said.

"Thank you," she replied with a small sigh. "I will be there, of course." When he had left again she threw a look at her wrist-chrono and grimaced wrily. "Two hours. Well, I'd better get to work." She glanced up at Han apologetically. "Could you go and see what Mother is doing? Help her, if she needs a hand, anything she needs..." she broke off, and for a moment sorrow flashed across her pretty face. The sight made Han's heart ache. He reached out to squeeze her shoulders encouragingly.

"Anything she needs," he repeated, then gave her a quick kiss, before he turned to leave. Damn! For a moment he wondered very hard, whether they would ever learn to live in peace.

Mon Mothma's face was pale, but her eyes were clear and alert, as she watched Padmé move across the floor to come to stand in front of her bed. The former queen stood there hesitantly, not certain how to begin. She had not known Mon Mothma for long, and her feelings toward the president had been biased by the way she had been treating Anakin. She was a stranger to Padmé, yet that did not make this easier. Not at all.

"I was told you were feeling better," she began at last.

Mon Mothma regarded her quietly, then nodded very slowly. "Yes. Although it will take some time until I am fully recovered. I have designated your daughter to stand in for me until I can take over my duties again."

"I am glad that you did not choose General Seelac," Padmé commented softly, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

The auburn-haired woman smiled tentatively. "We need someone with a cool head now," she explained, "someone like Leia. And you knew I would choose her, did you not?"

"I expected it, yes. You are a reasonable woman, who knows what is required of a leader. Leia won't disappoint your trust."

"A compensation for her mother's betrayal?"

Padmé's mouth tightened angrily. "I tried to choose the most moderate course of action, Mon Mothma. And even though I am well aware of my deeds, I could not simply have sat back either."

"You and your husband, you are two of a kind," the president told her thoughtfully. "He would have said the same. Both of you regard duty as something that is set apart from all rules and regulations, other than what you perceive as just and right. I wonder if you realize how profoundly selfish that is, how arrogant."

"I suppose we both have realized that," Padmé answered calmly. "Yet we both regard it as necessary."

"And your husband's grand dream of a common council? Do you truly believe it can survive the distrust and resentment you have sown? Do you believe anyone would even give a damn about what this council you seek to found will say? Don't you rather think that the nations will ignore your advice and continue the way they have before?" Mon Mothma's voice never changed throughout that little speech, remaining calm and composed all the way. 

It unnerved Padmé for some reason, and yet she fought down her rising anger once more. Once the president had ended, though, she took her time to answer. In the end she straightened the skirts of her dress demonstratively and said: 

"Madam President, you cannot deny that this conflict in a far-away region concerns all nations. And you cannot deny that you will not be able to remain neutral in this matter. The New Republic's very existence is at stake, as well as its ideals. Ryloth and the foundation of the Confederate Zone showed you that you have to accept the will of the people, no matter how small that people may be. Yana Dar realized the same. Now you must come to understand that rivalry will get you nowhere without a goal to achieve. That goal cannot be renewed warfare. It has to be competition, yes, but competition for the loyalties of your people. Yet both of us understand the machinations of politics, the workings of governments. That is why we need a common council. You refuse to accept an order set apart from rules and regulations? Fine. Perhaps now you understand why the Jedi Order was not independent from the republic government. Yet not even that precaution saved the Jedi from turning from friend to foe in the eyes of many people."

"And how do you propose to solve that problem?" Mon Mothma asked. "There will always be people who fear the power of the Jedi, who will raise their voices against them. No matter if that new Jedi Order uses its power as benevolently and wise as the members of the old order did. Some people will always resent and envy those who are not even more powerful, but also humble, who have the moral high ground that allows them to judge the resentful." The president's eyes turned regretful. "I do not see a solution to that dilemma. Though I understand your husband's desire to be safe and free at last, he, as well as your children, will always remain special, will always find himself drawn into conflicts that need solving. Still, I am not at all certain whether that council he proposes would be the right solution."

Padmé swallowed slowly. "It will be, Madam President. Once this is over, people will _demand_ that such a council be revived. And when it comes to that, we will need reasonable, sensible people to head that council. People like the Jedi."

"What do you mean by that?" Mon Mothma asked, suddenly suspicious. "It seems to me that you know something no one else does, something that will leave a shadow of darkness here in this galaxy."

"Not darkness, necessarily. Although," Padmé hesitated. "Yes. I suppose you are right. There will be darkness, and there will be light. And for those who choose not to see the light within darkness, the council must assume that part, as it must assume the part of a central agency of liberty and prosperity."

"Padmé," Mon Mothma urged her, "what is going to happen?"

And the answer to that, unfortunately, was very simple. "The Sith will return. There is no way of stopping that now. Not any longer," she added wistfully.

"How? How can that be?" the other woman asked, aghast.

" 'The living dead shall resurrect the glories of the past to rekindle the flame of life and reclaim what was once lost'," Padmé quoted solemnly, remembering her shock when she had first read that line in the report the Seeker had delivered. "This is part of the Jen'da prophecies, a collection of essays and thoughts from millennia long past. It takes a mind that old to decyher the meaning of that prophecy," she added with a wry smile. "Fortunately for us Palpatine delivered just that."

"How?

"It is a program nick-named Seeker. What it really does is catalogue and interpret the scores of knowledge gained from a flash-print of Lord Kell's memories. At the moment it is assisting myself and my associates with managing the current crisis."

"Your associates? What associates?"

"You understand that I cannot disclose any names right now. You know about Commander Al'than'erudo, and that is enough right now. Before you scold me for trusting a program that was initiated by Palpatine and is based on Roj Kell's memories, let me tell you this: if you fight a shrewd enemy it is best to use the same shrewdness he displays. And what better way to counter Palpatine's last scheme than to use his own weapons against him?"

"But Kell –"

"I know what you mean," Padmé interrupted her sternly. "Yet that prejudice is just as childish as calling the Jedi evil. You simply cannot compare to that level of knowledge and insight. It is impossible to understand. All we need to know is that over the course of three millennia the destructive potential of this knowledge was never used. Never."

"That doesn't make it any less dangerous," Mon Mothma countered, frowning.

"No, that is true. But it means that it _can_ be controlled, that it can be used properly. Managing that knowledge, too, should be part of the councilors' tasks."

"Impossible!"

"Not impossible. And there is a safeguard against any misconduct, too."

"Which would be?"

Padmé smiled. "What you and I are doing right now. A system of checks and balances that encompasses everything." She rose abruptly. "Think about it."

"Where are you going?"

The former queen turned back to smile at the president. "Home."

Han Solo felt more than out of place, especially in the silly NRI uniform Leia had made him wear for the occassion. It was nothing fancy, thankfully, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. Telmann Page, standing next to him, was smiling knowingly, as if he had picked up on the Corellian's feelings and was mocking him now. Han growled under his breath angrily. But unfortunately Page was officially his boss, even if Han was in truth working for someone else. Sighing, the Corellian made himself stand straight and neat, while his eyes sought the different faces in the crowd that had assembled in the Senate chamber's anteroom to witness the official recognition of the Minister of State as pro-term president until Mon Mothma's recovery. Han knew, just as everyone else present, that Leia had good chances of becoming Mon Mothma's successor for real once election time dawned. 

Apart from the two NRI representatives – General Telmann Page and Han himself – there were delegates from all ministries and a few senators. Padmé was not among them. She had left Coruscant this very morning, after a long goodbye from her daughter, and was now on her way to her homeplanet, Naboo. Leia, dressed in a floor-length white robe that was all clear and simple elegance, wore her head high, yet her expression was far from arrogant. Honest concern and determination were plain on her face. There was no pretense here, and everyone could see that. It was, apart from being what she truly felt, also a clear contrast to what had happened in the war council that had dissolved after Padmé's departure. Though Al'than'erudo had remained on Coruscant to keep the line to the Chiss Empire open for negotiations.

Han snorted inwardly. He was confident that between the two of them Thrawn and Anakin would manage the Yuuzhan Vong threat easily. And he trusted Piett and Sarreti, no matter what General Seelac and Telmann Page might think of them. And above all he trusted Leia to do the right thing. There practically was no way she could do anything wrong, in his mind. He smiled proudly to himself. Yes, despite all the difficulties he had experienced especially with his future father-in-law, he still felt that what the Skywalker family was doing was the right thing. He might question their methods and idealism, but when he thought about it, he could not fault them for their dreams either. 

When all was said and done _everyone_ had that same dream, of balance and peace. Except, perhaps, for a few deluded maniacs, like Palpatine. But those would stand no chance against the bond Anakin sought to renew, they would cower before the forces of truth and justice, as it was meant to be. Han laughed inwardly at his own pathetic thoughts. It was not nearly that simple, he knew, but simple always was a good basis for the complicated.

He noticed Leia, looking simply stunning, when she threw a cautious glance his way. Impulsively, Han held up his hands and gave her a thumbs-up. Her easy smile was reward enough for that, even though Page's low chuckle might rankle somewhat. 

"Got a problem?" Han snapped uneasily. The general shook his head, all calm once more.

"No problem, Captain Solo. As long as she learns from her mother's mistake," he added, nodding toward the princess.

Han did not answer. If he had, he was not sure whether he might not have managed to get himself detained for heavy verbal assault on a superior. Well, he knew for sure that Leia would make no mistakes. She had been a dilligent student under her father, and with Padmé's knowledge to back those studies up she simply could not fail. No way.

The second session in Senate was an emergency session, and Leia felt slightly uncomfortable with that, since it was her first day in office. The inauguration ceremony had been short, at her own request, because unfortunately she knew they had no time to lose. Now, though, her friends and allies were all gone, leaving her at the mercy of the occupants of the Sneate Chamber's giant amphitheater. It was overwhelming. Although she had sat herself in this very chamber as aide to her step-father, viceroy Bail Organa of Alderaan, she had never imagined that presiding over a Senate discussioin would be such a lonely position. Yet she knew how to deal with situations like this. Keeping her features impassive, she stepped onto the president's podium platform, to face the crowd.

"The President of the New Republic, Leia Organa!" the speaker announced, then deferentially moved aside to yield the floor to her.

"Thank you," the princess answered the roaring voices that had risen all through the giant chamber, quieting them somewhat. "Please accept my humble thanks for selecting me to this important post until Mon Mothma has recuperated. It is dire news that I bring you today, sadly enough. All of you have been briefed on the sessions of the alliance war council over the past days, and each one of you has received a copy of yesterday's report." Again the senators started shouting and discussing among themselves. Leia ignored them. "Action is needed, defensive action, to secure the life and liberty of the citizens of the New Republic. We cannot – and will not – let ourselves be intimidated by the Confederate Zone's assumption of neutrality, or the Empire's own machinations. What we will do – and I expect you all to agree with me – is to stand fast against the forces that have invaded our galaxy with no other intent than to destroy us all. All of you are aware that the New Republic has already sent a task force out into the Unknown Regions to assist the Chiss forces under Grand Admiral Thrawn's command. We will continue to support those troops. And we will remain true to our allies in this conflict. The attack on the president has alerted us to the gruesome fact that Coruscant itself is not safe, and thus we must act at once. We must act, or perish," she concluded, forcing her voice to sound level and cool. "Therefore I ask you all to vote in favor of an official declaration of allegiance with the Chiss Empire." She lowered her head ever so slightly, casting her eyes down. "Thank you."

Now she could only wait. And hope.

"You don't seem very worried."

Looking up from his studies, Talon Karrde gave Lando Calrissian a tight smile. "Should I be?"

The baron-administrator, dressed in a business suit of exquisite fabrics, shrugged and walked into the information broker's office reluctantly. "Well, knowing that the enemy is on our trail is not the same as having defeated him."

"You are afraid."

"Afraid for my investment? Always," Calrissian retorted, a grim expression on his handsome features. "I put a lot of money into the security measures of this shack. Now you come and tell me we should make it as easy as possible for those Yuuzhan Vong saboteurs – without being obvious. Where's the logic in that? What if something goes wrong?"

Karrde leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "The stakes are certainly high, but I do not really believe we will encounter any troubles."

"Boss!" It was Aves, who stormed into the office, face reddened. "Got some news!"

"Out with it." Alert again, the broker sat forward to gaze at his right hand man. 

"Dankin and Shee have discovered some suspicious activity going on in sector four, two levels down. There's someone heading our way."

"Where did they come from?"

"A transport from Garqui. Original port was Munnilist."

"Imperials, then. They are sending human saboteurs?"

"Looks like it," Aves growled, then closed the door behind him and walked toward the other two men. "Boss, I don't like this at all. We've sent an invitation that's courting disaster. And I don't care what some computer-program says, this is foolish."

"Foolish, hm?" Karrde echoed, brows raised ever so slightly. "Tell me, Aves, have I ever disappointed your trust? Have I ever set this organization into the ground? I think not. So you will leave it to me to decide whether listening to the Seeker's advice is foolish or not." 

"You're calling it Seeker?" Calrissian snorted. "I thought only Halan and his slicer gang were so –"

"Foolish? No, they aren't the only ones." The information broker rose slowly from his chair and smoothed his mustache self-consciously. "The Seeker has its own personality, in a sense, a multiple personality, if you will. Everyone who has ever worked on the program has given something of himself or herself into the design and structures."

"Next you're going to tell me its alive!" the baron-administrator exclaimed, throwing his hands up in disgust. "Its just a program!"

Talon Karrde nodded in agreement, then picked up a datacard and pushed it into the slot of the holoreader sitting on top of his desk. "Have a look, Calrissian. You too, Aves. This is the latest report. I received it only two hours ago. Halan and Min'da Sher were pretty excited about it." Reluctantly the two men joined him at the desk to gaze at the report displayed there. 

__

Tik-ey, tik-ey, remember the outrage we had concerning Project Zero-B? I told you it would get out of hand. You did not want to listen. But I know better now. I should have kept silent, and acted. Project Zero-B was your greatest failure, master. It is going to cause a lot of trouble yet. But I won't interfere. Oh no. 

"These seem to be different strands of thought," Karrde explained. "Look at this," he added and pointed at another paragraph.

__

Look at the thing. As arrogant as its creator, as dangerous. The consciousness it has developed is astounding, considering. A rotten fruit among a garden of life, and it has infected everything. I should destroy it. I cannot. Not again. Jen Motha indeed. You are dead, although you do not know it yet. 

An uncomfortable silence permated the office, as Calrissian and Aves read the rest of the report. Karrde was standing impassively, hands crossed behind his back, and waited until they directed their attention back at him.

"So," he said, "now you see what I mean." He activated his comm moments before the call he had been expecting came in. "They are here? Excellent. You know what to do. Yes, he's with me. Aves?" Handing the comm over, Karrde stood back to wait until his second had heard the sentinel's report.

"They are here," Aves repeated, frowning at his boss. "You knew?"

"In a way. Interesting play-thing, that Seeker. Come on. Let's get going."

"Boss?"

"Yes, Aves?" he asked, turning his head back to look at the man.

"What does Tik-ey mean?"

"As far as I was able to determine, it means something like pig-head."

"Oh. Great."

"Isn't it? Come now. We don't have much time."

And so, a few minutes later, the three of them had joined a contingent of guards in the outer room, where the Seeker was slumbering in its nest of circuits and high-tech electronics. The five screens were blank, looming above the empty room like the malevolent eyes of some mechanical beast. They did not have to wait very long. To minimize the risk to his own people, Karrde had had Aves deploy sentinel droids around the perimeter. By the sound of it, they were being taken out one by one by the assailants. Finally there was silence, and the information broker held his breath. Now it would be revealed whether the interpretation of the Seeker's predictions was right, or not. He fervently hoped that he had done the right thing. If he had, this would be the first – and probably last – time that he had made a fatal mistake. 

The outer door to the room openend in a fizzle of sparks, and Karrde pressed back into the corner he shared with Toss Halan and Calrissian. Aves and his men were situated along the opposite wall, crouching in the shadows of the Seeker array. Five beings entered the room in single file, and stopped. 

"Infrared!" Aves called out, and he might as well have shouted 'attack', for the small chamber exploded into action before the word was even halfway out of his mouth.

Cursing, Talon Karrde jumped up, along with his companions, blaster drawn and heart hammering in his chest. Now ...

"Ah. There you all are," a strange voice announced, and added: "Turn the lights on."

The room lit up abruptly, revealing five men standing in the midst of a ring of blasters. Karrde waved his hand at them. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Sergeant Alowyn Kattaran, Special Operations, Imperial Defense Department. At your service." The sergeant, a tall, heavy-set man with short-cut blond hair and brown eyes, smiled at the information broker. "You've been expecting us, so I've been told."

"Then Jixton and Jade made it," Karrde breathed, relieved. "Counselor Sarreti is back in charge?"

Kattaran nodded solemnly. "He is back, yes. I have this here for you," he continued, handing over a datacard.

"Have it checked," Karrde told Toss Halan, who took the card gingerly and retreated into the back of the building. "You will understand, " the broker addressed the sergeant again, "that we will take precautious measures until your identity has been confirmed."

"Their identities are confirmed, Captain Karrde." The voice was all too familiar, with its deep timbre and steely overtones, that crept up Karrde's back in cold shivers. 

Turning his head slowly, noting the gaping and frightened expression on the faces of his own men, Karrde stared at the apparition that had appeared in front of the Seeker installation. The center screen, he noticed at once, was busily ticking away, with code streaming across its surface in a steady stream that filled the screen entirely. The apparition, he realized then, was only a projection, nothing more. It was a life-size hologram of the late Roj Kell, probably created from the body memory of the flash-print taken from the ancient Sith Lord's mind, a washed out image of what he had been. Relaxing a bit, the information broker nodded at the Seeker.

"Go on," he said. "Tell me more."

"Project Zero-B," the Seeker began, "was one of the last experiments conducted by Exar Kun on Yavin 4, a weapon that he believed would assist him in his fight against the Jedi. But the project developed faster than he had anticipated, and the Jedi struck sooner than he had expected."

"So he had to abandon the project?" Karrde asked, frowning. It felt strange, to hear a dead man's voice like this.

"The project rather abandoned him. It gathered a contingent of Massassi followers and fled into the jungle along with them, when the Jedi army descended on Yavin 4."

"What kind of project are we talking about here? I assume it was biological, yes?"

"Of course. You cannot compare this to modern genetic engineering, Captain Karrde. Project Zero-B was infused with the Dark Side, grown within the Dark Side, born of it. And yet it is an independent organism. It retains its master's knowledge, but it cannot learn new things. It has to assimilate information."

"Was there a Project Zero-A?"

"A test version. Harmless, considering."

"What is the project's current status and location?" Karrde continued, assuming the syntax he used when comunicating with the Seeker via keyboard.

"Current status is unknown, but presumably it still exists. Last known location was Shara Orl, a Yuuzhan Vong worldship."

"The last sighting was when?"

"I do not understand that question," the Seeker replied, features impassive.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Talon Karrde tried to find a different approach to getting the information he needed. "How did Project Zero-B come to be with the Yuuzhan Vong?"

"Conquest. Its Massassi followers defeated the Jen Motha and made them Yuuzhan Vong, Divine Slaves. In time the two races became one. Only Project Zero-B stayed the same."

"How does the project relate to current events?"

"The empress is in danger. She will succumb to darkness if she meets with Project Zero-B. You must remove her from the clutches of the Yuuzhan Vong at once. Your allies in the Unknown Regions cannot assist you. The Triad Worlds are the key. If project Zero-B assumes control of both the empress and the Triad Worlds, you will be lost."

"What about Roganda Ismaren? You claim she is with the empress."

"Roganda Ismaren will not be in danger. The prediction says she will be safe on Almashin."

"I see.The Triad Worlds would be where, the Unknown Regions?"

"Yes. Lord Skywalker knows. You must tell him that he should defend there."

"What about the battle at Almashin?"

"He will not be needed there. Tell him his prayers will be answered."

"What?"

The holo kept still, then flickered out, leaving the small assembly in bewildered silence. 

"Boss, what are we gonna do?" Aves asked hesitantly, but Talon Karrde was not listening. 

He was wondering hard what he had just witnessed. The Seeker had never before used holoprojections to communicate, why had it started now? Had it been listening in on them all the time? If so, that meant the Seeker was always active, and subsequently that meant that it was at least partly sentient. A chilling thought, that needed to be confirmed. It had called him Captain Karrde, as if it knew who he was, too. Very strange. And what was that about the Triad Worlds? They had been mentioned in the Seeker's very first report too. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, the information broker turned around to gaze at Lando Calrissian. 

"You have a fast ship, Calrissian?"

"The Lady Luck is fast, yes, but not well-armed. If you want to suggest what I think you'll be suggesting, forget about it," the baron-administrator grated out darkly.

"You could get a lift from Sergeant Kattaran and his men, I am sure," Karrde offered. "But fact is that I want someone trustworthy at Almashin – no offense, Sergeant – and that we cannot communicate with them directly. It would also be more credible if you weren't here when I make my report to Coruscant."

"What report?"

"That the Seeker was damaged. You and the Sergeant here will transfer the equipment to Naboo, the way we had planned. Her Highness will be awaiting you, I suppose. And I can carry that message to Almashin."

Calrissian's frown deepened. "You believe that dooms-day nonsense?"

"That doesn't matter," Talon Karrde replied sharply. "What we want is an illusion to keep the Yuuzhan Vong guessing. Sergeant Kattaran will spare one of his men to act as proof of the attack and the Empire's apparent treason. Is that okay with you, Sergeant?"

The blond soldier nodded with a smile. "Counselor Sarreti suggested the same, yes. But I would say you need not inform the New Republic. It would be sufficient to send a 'survivor' of the sabotage team back to Byss and report the failure. That way Counselor Sarreti would be able to control the flow of information fully, without jeopardizing his own plans."

Karrde nodded. "Of course. That would make things easier, certainly. I still think I should go to Almashin."

"Captain, if I may, you are needed here, working with the Seeker. Perhaps you should go to Naboo instead of Calrissian," Min'da Sher piped up. 

"And send Calrissian to Almashin?"

"Why not?"

"Hey!" the baron protested. "Don't I have a say in the matter?"

"Of course you do," Karrde assured him and gave him an expectant look. "So?"

Calrissian gritted his teeth. "I'm going, all right," he grated out. "But mind you, this is the last time I'm doing _anything_ for you and your gang."

"And I wonder what sparked that change of mind," Talon Karrde added amiably. "Very good. Then let's get going. There's no time to waste."

Evening was a purple haze on Laa'kuan, an inky darkness that swallowed the labyrinth bit by bit, like a hungry predator. The glowing stars set into the maze's stone walls gave off a warm, soothing light, and the low snorts of the striped guardian beasts prowling the labyrinth filled the night with life. It was a peaceful setting, removed from time and the turmoils that had enveloped the galaxy since the arrival of the Yuuzhan Vong. A place of magic. 

Belana Jen had settled herself on a small ledge that allowed her to overlook part of the labyrinth and, more importantly, allowed her to keep an eye on Roj Kell, who was standing at the center of the maze's core. 

"Project Zero-B?" she asked lightly, brows arched in disapproval. "Why did you tell them all this?"

He looked up at her, his pale green eyes turning almost silver, as they reflected the sparse light of the moons. "I could tell them all I know," he began, "but that would be far too easy. If they cannot think of the right questions to ask they will have to find the answers themselves."

Her mouth twisted in dicomfort, as her eyes again fell on the body lying next to him. His own. She rubbed her shoulders self-consciously, then asked: "Must we stay here? I'd rather be back on Roon."

Following her gaze briefly, he turned back and shrugged. "You are free to leave, of course."

"You mean, you do not mind?"

He smiled up at her. "I suppose I am too old to mind. And I can still have you, no matter what."

"I suppose that much is true," the Jedi Master conceded, her lips twitching ominously. "So, will we have a happy ending?"

Laughing, Kell shook his head, his long black hair catching the moonlight in a shower of glittering highlights. The laughter lingered on his features even after he had turned his face to gaze up at her. "A happy ending? Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she beathed, her voice very low and timid. 

She drew her legs up to her chest when he made his way up to join her on the ledge. Watching him, she again felt enchanted by his very being, his grace, his looks. She had fallen in love with him millennia ago, and never had she given up her hopes that someday they could truly be together. Why could they not start anew? Finally he stood before her, forcing Belana to crane her neck to smile at him. His face was very earnest. 

"Are you sure about this?" She nodded quietly and lay a hand on the back of his knee, tugging gently to get him to sit down beside her. He complied and dropped down on his haunches before her. "Belana, I love you," he told her, his voice filling her with desire. 

His right hand was placed on her forehead and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. She could sense him move toward her, gently pushing her back, until she could feel his lips on her mouth, his body against hers. For a moment her heart fluttered with uncertainty. A tiny voice in the back of her head shouted that this was forbidden, but in the depth of her heart Belana knew that there were no limits for them. None whatsoever. Wrapping her hands around his neck she drew him closer.

"I love you too," she whispered. "Forever."

TBC


	37. Chapter 36 - Confrontation

****

Chapter 36 – Confrontation

Yana could feel her heart beat in her throat, and it was hard for her to think clearly. Not that it was required any longer. All she could do now was wait, and prepare herself. Kneeling in the midst of her small cabin, she ignored Roganda completely, only intent on her own self. She was nurturing a black flame of outrage she planned on using very soon. A small flame now, but she let it grow bit by bit, let it open a pathway to the depth of her hatred, a gateway to unimaginable power. 

Inch for inch she fought her way deeper into the meditative trance, leaving everything behind. She knew this was dangerous, that she would be almost defenseless against the Dark Side of her self. But she needed to risk it. Too much was at stake now. If Thrawn had not been able to summon help, if something went wrong, the Warmaster would triumph, and the galaxy would fall. This she knew with utmost certainty. 

Bitterness stabbed through her consciousness as she remembered the way her life had been just a few months ago. She had been reasonably happy and content on Nar Shadaa, with Abla. And now she was here, on this ghastly worldship, surrounded by aliens whose insanity was repulsing her. She was all alone. No. Roganda was still with her, faithfully watching over her mistress. Yana suppressed a groan. She was nobody's mistress! She did not ever want to think of herself that way! Never. It was too close to what she associated with her father, too close to becoming what he had been.

In a shocking instant she realized that if even she had troubles coming to terms with her heritage, it must have been impossible for Irek to escape that fate. He had never learned anything else than that everyone was serving his needs, that his life was aimed at a single purpose, to rule the galaxy one day, like his father had. It was so easy to succumb to that image of power, so easy to get lost in daydreams. But Yana was a pragmatic. She had seen enough in her life to tell right from wrong, and what she was doing right now was very wrong. 

But there was no other way she could see, no other solution to this dilemma. She had little hope of a last-minute rescue, knew that she could only rely on herself, not even on Roganda. Roganda was too weak, too afraid. Briefly, the Empress looked up to gaze at the younger woman, who sat in her accustomed corner, watching her keenly out of black eyes. Expectantly. What was it she expected? For Yana to save them both? For her to destroy the Yuuzhan Vong single-handedly? It would not happen. Could not. All they could hope for was a quick death in the end, and to take as many of those repulsive creatures with them as they could. 

Three more hours. Then the battle at Almashin would begin.

Syndic Bal'maw'narda was worried, and Voss Parck equally so, yet both men were making an excellent effort at not letting their worry show. The Secondary Task Force had taken up a defensive orbit above Almashin, the entire fleet was set on red alert, and Lorth Needa had remained aboard the Starhammer, while Anakin and his companions had made their way down planet to inform both the Syndic and the Admiral of the recent developments. But only a few hours within their arrival a newcomer announced himself. 

Chi'in was coming on behalf of the Grand Admiral, and Anakin felt incredibly good to see his old friend again. Not that he believed that the Noghri could not take care of himself, but his recent adventures first with the Yuuzhan Vong, then with the Star People, had had him worrying too. Not to mention that Chi'in had watched over Luke and Nuron during their trip through the Unknown Regions. Most of the time anyway. When the alien Sith Lord was finally ushered into Syndic Bal'maw'narda's sprawling office, the Dark Lord bounded out of his chair instantly.

"Chi'in!" he exclaimed, face beaming. "Good to have you back!"

He ignored the smugness he could sense both from Naas Deron and Puket, not only because he could also feel their relief at having their mentor back with them. Bal'maw'narda, as expected, remained calm and composed, whereas Voss Parck seemed pleased. Andarack, Chi'in's great-nephew, though, exuded anxiety and shame. 

"Anakin," the older Noghri greeted him in return. "You are still playing games, I see."

"You know me. I just can't stop," the Dark Lord replied with a wink, then motioned for Chi'in to take a seat next to him. "So, what's new? We are expecting the enemy to descend on us any moment now. Our defenses stand ready, and we want to avoid a ground battle under any circumstances. The report Commander Al'than'erudo gave me was unclear on the specific time of arrival of our allies, and I am not sure we can count on the Empire. How does the Grand Admiral judge the situation?"

"He is confident," Chi'in answered calmly. "And he sent me ahead to suggest another angle to approach this problem. The idea is derived from my report concerning the creature on Kynda'bey."

"The yammosk," Anakin supplied.

"The one. Before he died Lord Kell told Luke that he had planned on using the energies of Laa'kuan to control this yammosk. If you could control it, you could control the Yuuzhan Vong."

"Me, is it? Why do you believe I could do that?" the Dark Lord asked suspiciously. "And I am not certain I want to trust Roj Kell," he added angrily. "With all he's done he is lucky he is dead already." Which was only too true. The gall of the man!

Chi'in gave him a pensive glance, then shook his head. "Revenge won't get us anywhere. This would be a chance to avoid more losses on both sides."

"What?" Voss Parck jumped up in shocked surprise. "Did I understand correctly? You are proposing an amnesty for these creatures, Master Chi'in?"

The Noghri gazed at the man long and hard. "I am Sith, Admiral, I am no killer. And yes, the Grand Admiral ordered no quarter for their troops, but now we know that we do not only hurt their troops when we destroy their worldships. Commander Al'than'erudo's report should have made that clear."

"They did not spare our civilians either," Syndic Bal'maw'narda argued, "but I understand what you mean. Yet we should not take foolish chances. Master Chi'in, you have met the yammosk and have seen the labyrinth on Laa'kuan at work. Would you be able to perform the task required?"

Chi'in shook his head and sought Anakin's gaze again. The Dark Lord suppressed a sigh. He knew why the Noghri could not be the one. Chi'in was powerful, and he may be able to control the labyrinth, but he was not Cor'dan. He was. He had accepted that gift, that burden, willingly, and somehow he found that perhaps this task would be the last one required to bind him to the Sith forever. Still, Chi'in was also right concerning the losses this war had cost them so far. If there was a way to stop them, he should take it. He was not needed here for the battle either, with Grand Admiral Thrawn in command of the fleet. 

"Anakin," the Noghri began anew, "you were chosen for a reason. That reason may not appeal to you, but it is your responsibility whether to follow the call or ignore it."

The shrill alarm that tore through the air suddenly seemed to mock his friend's very words, and it startled Anakin out of his dark broodings instantly. Too late to make choices. Time to act. He rose from his seat, putting all worry behind him. 

"All right, people," he announced. "Let's give them a good time."

The Primary Task Force arrived minutes ahead of the enemy, and the Grand Admiral's attention was fixed solely on the planet ahead. A quick survey showed him that everything was in place. The only forces visible around the Chiss world were the ships of Needa's fleet, and the Warmaster would certainly realize that he had found the enemy in his lair and had cornered him, wounded and fatigued. Thrawn had no doubts that Voss Parck had deployed the planet's defensive forces in the surrounding area, making use of the stealth cruisers' camouflage. The outlying systems had been alerted to the threat, but so far the admiral would not have given the signal for them to advance. That signal was the arrival of Thrawn's primary force. 

"Contact the Starhammer," Thrawn told Commander Shikay calmly, while he himself was busy planning the strategical layout of the ships.

"Admiral Needa for you, sir," Shikay announced after a moment.

"Thank you. Admiral, is everything in place?"

"Yes, sir, we are ready. How many ships?"

"And estimate of hundred."

"We have sixty-two," Needa reminded him cautiously.

"Yes, Admiral, that is correct." Ignoring the unspoken question of whether that was enough, he continued: "Naas Deron and Puket are to join you immediately, along with Andarack."

"They are already on their way up, sir," Needa replied promptly, "but Andarack will be staying on Almashin, as per Lord Skywalker's orders."

That caught Thrawn's attention. "Is that so. And who is going to replace him?"

"Master Chi'in."

For a heart-beat the Grand Admiral fell into stunned silence. "He is still here?"

"Yes, sir. He has met with Syndic Bal'maw'narda and Lord Skywalker. I have not heard of him since."

"He should be on his way to Laa'kuan already," Thrawn mused aloud. "Another change of plan made by Lord Skywalker?"

"Perhaps," Needa offered noncommittally. "Sir, is there a problem?"

He hesitated for the fraction of a second, then firmly told him: "No. No problem. We will proceed as planned." Looking down at the control panel of his command chair he frowned ever so slightly. "I am transmitting the coordinates for the fleet deployment right now. Make it quick."

"Yes, sir. Needa out."

"Captain Palleon," he addressed his second-in-command, "have the Eisenhart move into formation and keep the TIEs ready for launch."

With a nod, the captain set to work, leaving the Chiss admiral to ponder the situation. So, Andarack would be staying with the Dark Lord on Almashin, and Chi'in would join the Starhammer and lead Black Flight. Perhaps then it would make sense to give him command over all squadrons in rotating order, so the enemy had no way of targeting a particular one. 

"Captain," he called out again, "I want Master Chi'in on board the Eisenhart." He did not wait for the other's nod. 

Skywalker would manage Voss Parck's troops and hold the planetary defenses ready in the likely case that some of the Yuuzhan Vong ships broke through and attacked the planet itself. In doing so, they would draw valuable fire-power from the defending ships, leaving their own vessels more room to pummel the home fleet itself. He suppressed a grimace, again resenting the fact that this battle would be very costly in terms of personnel and materiél. Not the way he preferred it, not at all. He could not rely on the alliance Skywalker's son had supposedly gathered to arrive on time, therefore the first few engagements would be crucial. 

Very well. So far the Yuuzhan Vong had not seen much of the Chiss' defenses, apart from Thrawn's and Needa's efforts. It was likely that the Warmaster would not expect reinforcements here either, but the Grand Admiral found it wiser not to underestimate the enemy. If the Warmaster counted on the Chiss having laid a trap, he would take precautious measures, as well as attack swiftly and brutally. They did not have much time left. A sudden smile flashed across his face. Then he contacted Needa again and said:

"Admiral, a slight change of plan."

Voss Parck was staring at the center radar screen set in the midst of the Chiss Defense Department's command center on Almashin. The installation was an undergound bunker, connected through a maze of corridors and tunnels with various other strategical weapons installations all over the planet. The command center was filled with officers and operators, and all calmly and quietly went about their tasks, fairly ignoring the admiral's shock. But at last Skywalker took a heart and joined the gape-mouthed Parck at the screens. 

"What is it?"

"Look at this!" Gesturing at the displayed image, Voss Parck turned wild eyes on the Dark Lord. "This was not what we had planned! He is moving out of the formation!"

"Let's see." Skywalker squinted at the screen, frowned, squinted again, then shook his head. "He knows what he is doing," he told Parck soothingly.

"Really? He is leaving us too open to the attack! If the enemy is hundred strong, and I assume that means a few thousand coral-skippers, we will be meshed into bits withing ten minutes of their arrival!"

"Calm down, Admiral," the Dark Lord snapped, suddenly angry. "You of all people should know Thrawn well enough to realize that he knows what he's doing, and he is doing it for a reason."

"Why is he changing the plan so abruptly? That is not like him," Parck countered nervously. "Something must have happened."

It was true. The Grand Admiral had had every tiny detail planned for this battle, and now he was changing the array! The idea had been to conceal part of the stealth cruisers available behind the two task forces the Yuuzhan Vong had grown accustomed to, while the rest of Parck's troops were lying in ambush to attack the enemy's rear. Alarmed, the admiral checked the frequencies to his commanders out there. Everything seemed to be in order. 

"He is diverting their attention to cushion the blow," Skywalker said suddenly, his voice very low. "We have to move quickly then, and attack their vanguard before they can gather what is really going on."

"But that means that they will be expecting the sneak attack."

  
"Yes."

Voss Parck's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "All right. In that case we'll be quick and thorough."

"Ah, Empress."

Roganda kept her eyes to the ground as she slipped onto the bridge silently. Yuuzhan Vong soldiers were all around, their commanders clustering around Marayl Carr himself. 

"I am pleased that you have joined me to witness our greatest victory."

"If it becomes one at all," Yana retorted curtly. "And even if, I doubt you will find others easier prey."

There was a soft sound that Roganda had come to associate with laughter. Apparently the Warmaster found Yana's prediction very amusing. 

"It _will_ be a victory, Empress." 

A gentle change of movement told Roganda that the ship had reverted into realspace. Only now did she dare to look up. Spread out before them was a glowing green jewel of a world, and arrayed around it like barbs were the thirty-two ships of the two separate battle groups that had been hounding Marayl Carr's fleet over the past weeks. Even to her untrained eye the Chiss-New Republic ships' array seemed disorderly, and soon after she realized that they were leaving. Her throat suddenly felt very dry.

"They are running already," Marayl Carr announced contemptuously. "Your precious Grand Admiral seems to be more cautious and less of a genius than you praised him to be, Yana Dar."

The Empress did not answer, and Rogand risked a glance at her to see Yana's blue eyes staring blankly at the fleet outside. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the look the Warmaster gave the older woman, a mixture of contempt and deepest satisfaction. Suddenly Roganda felt very afraid. She remembered vividly what Yana had sworn, that they would win at Almashin, either way. 

"So," Marayl Carr said in a low purr. "We will annihilate this fleet and so break their resistance. I do not doubt that this world's prefect will surrender once he realizes that he will be lost if he continues this foolish fight." Turning toward his commanders he gave a sharp nod. "Attack," he ordered coldly. "And honor to you all."

The first wave of the attack was broken by the rows of stealth cruisers that had been lying in wait around the planet, deftly concealed by their unique camouflaged hull. Voss Parck had regained his composure and was conducting the battle with the same cool manner his Chiss commanders displayed. Watching the admiral at work, Anakin again had to admire the Grand Admiral's deft sense for people's abilities and personalities. If this had been a test to see whether Voss Parck had deserved the important post he had been given in the defense of the Chiss Empire, he would have passed with flying colors. 

"Group One, move forward," the admiral spoke into his head-comm, all the while gazing at the radar screens intently. "Group Two, move alongside One, and Three, move left. We'll keep this hard for now. How is the Grand Admiral proceeding?"

"Still pulling out," an officer told him calmly.

"He will outflank the enemy," Voss Parck mused aloud, "and draw their attention away from Major Al'dana's forces."

Major Al'dana, Anakin had learned, was in charge of the second group of stealth cruisers that was awaiting its battle-call two parsecs out of the system, out of the Yuuzhan Vong's radar range, hopefully. While Thrawn was moving his ships out to bait the enemy, and the stealth cruisers defending Almashin continued their ferocious attack, the Yuuzhan Vong fleet was busily regrouping. The first few engagements would determine the course of this battle, and so far it looked as if the Chiss-New Republic Alliance had gained the upper hand. 

"Major Al'dana," Anakin heard Voss Parck say, "you're free to move in."

Only a minute later the second group of stealth cruisers dropped into the back of the Yuuzhan Vong ships and immediately started hammering at their rear. But the attack was swiftly met by scores upon scores of coral-skippers. None had been deployed to combat Voss Parck's forces so far, and that alone told Anakin that the Yuuzhan Vong warmaster was no fool at all, and had indeed anticipated the sneak attack. Along with Voss Parck and his adjutants, the Dark Lord gazed longingly at the radar screen, where they expected Thrawn and Needa to appear with their battle groups any moment now. But the two commanders took their time. Only when the Yuuzhan Vong ships spread out further along the battle front did they appear, almost too late to contain the enemy. Anakin exhaled sharply. That had been a close cut. 

Now, wedged in tightly on four sides, the Yuuzhan Vong fleet began to reveal its full, deadly potential. Too late the Dark Lord realized the foolishness of this deployment, and its benefits. With their own ships so close, the Chiss-New Republic forces had to be very careful with deploying tractor beams to hold the molten rock projectiles hurled at them at bay, and the fighters also were hard pressed not to get in one another's way. It would be up to the flight commanders and ship captains to prove their worth as a team. And it required an extremely skilled and perceptive supreme commander to conduct this battle. Luckily that one commander was the Grand Admiral, over on board the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart. 

Soon, it seemed that the Alliance was indeed dominating the battle, even though outnumbered by the enemy. Anakin listened to the calm voice of Chi'in, relaying orders to the specific flights of TIEs, X-Wings and Chiss clawcraft. Each maneuver that was conducted by the Noghri Sith Lord saw an enemy ship on the defensive, and ultimately, destroyed, with Black Flight heading the list of kills.

"We are winning," he heard Voss Parck whisper reverentially, and he almost agreed with the admiral, but an instant after the words had been formed in his mind a wave of icy shock crashed into his awareness. 

"Damn!" he shouted, helpless fury propelling him toward the command center's comm station. "Gold and Black Group, full retreat!" he roared, no doubt startling both Thrawn and Needa out of concentration over there, but if they – Too late. Face turning ashen, he watched the radar screen darken with hundreds of red dots. They were everywhere. "Fool!" he scolded himself, but quickly his anger expanded to encompass Thrawn and Parck. Why had they been so blind to believe that this was the only fleet in the vicinity? He knew why, of course. There had been no evidence, no clue as to more ships hiding in the Unknown Regions. Anakin's head was spinning. He had assumed, they all had, that they had tracked all the ships down, that they had bound all of the enemy's resources with their strategy of strike and fade. And his cursed memories had not warned him of anything like this. 

His heart frozen, he looked on helplessly, as the newcomers tore deep wounds into their lines, ripping through their defenses mercilessly. 

"My stars," someone breathed. 

Stunned silence permeated the entire command center, while outside chaos broke out among the fleet. It lasted only for a few moments, before the ships began regrouping, despite their losses, despite the enemy vessels pressing in on them. Anakin drew a ragged breath. Thank the Force for having endowed the Grand Admiral with that much nerve and cool. Drawing back in good order, three fourths of their ships drew the enemy away from the planet gradually, and for a moment it seemed as if the maneuver would work. The Grand Admiral used that time to slip more ships in between the enemy forces and the planet, thus reinforcing Almashin's primary defenses. He was buying them time, there was nothing else he could do, but it was a beginning. 

Immediately, Anakin contacted Bal'maw'narda, and before he could say anything the aged Chiss told him: "We are evacuating."

"Excellent," the Dark Lord replied, at a loss of what else to say. Anxiously he waited for a further comment, an accusation from the Syndic, but all the Chiss said was: "A slight set-back, I should say. Continue. We have utmost faith in you." And then the connection broke. 

Yana could not believe what she was seeing. In the matter of moments the tide of battle had turned, and now it looked as if she would witness something she would never have thought possible: the utter defeat and destruction of a fleet led by none other than the legendary Grand Admiral Thrawn. It would be a historical moment, had she not known that with his demise history would end, trampled and burnt to pieces by the Yuuzhan Vong. The shock of that vision paralyzed her, and she did not react when Marayl Carr stepped beside her, his horrible features drawn up into a triumphant smile. 

"Glory to Supreme Overlord Shimmra and his wisdom," the Warmaster whispered, for her ears only. "Your Grand Admiral sought to trap us, but we were wiser than he. Though I admit that he is fighting bravely." He made an expansive gesture that encompassed the frenzied battle raging around them. "Your people are earning honor here, today," he declared earnestly.

"They will perish," Yana replied, her voice strained. She still could not believe her own eyes. 

The finalty of her own words stunned her, and for a moment she felt the weight on her shoulders becoming too much to bear. Staggering, she fought to take a ragged breath. Marayl Carr's pitiless eyes gazed down at her coldly. 

"You have realized your fate, Empress Yana Dar," he said, "and you will either submit or be destroyed. Once this world has fallen to the glory of Yun-Yammka, you will kneel before Supreme Overlord Shimmra and swear fealty to him. You will swear alongside your Grand Admiral, and the Emperor of the Chiss, and you will be true to your vow. I will make certain of that."

"The Emperor?" she asked, trying to understand, but she was shaking so hard she could barely think.

"Glory to Supreme Overlord Shimmra, who has led his forces to victory at the world called Csilla. The battle ended only a few hours ago," he replied proudly.

Her voice grew very small. "You knew," she whispered, the depth of their defeat slamming into her stomach like an iron club. She felt bitter gall rise from her belly and started retching violently. This was too much!

"I always knew you were too weak to play this game, infidel," Marayl Carr snarled, and hit her across her head hard. Sprawled on the deck in her own vomit, Yana felt hot tears of humiliating, fear and anger flow down her cheeks. A moment later Rogand was with her, valiantly trying to shield her against further punishment. The Warmaster's cruel laughter filled th air above the two women. "You were so vain to believe you could trick us!" he shouted, wheezing with laughter. Suddenly his mirth was cut off. "Take them away," he snarled, and almost instantly Yana found herself being seized by brutal, clawed hands, and dragged from the bridge, Roganda by her side. They were lost. Well and truly lost. Yana was still weeping in silence by the time they were unceremoniously thrown into her old cabin, and the door was sealed behind them.

"Sir," Teer Shikay began, but did not continue. 

The Grand Admiral did not even look at him. He was totally focused on the battle, ignoring everything but the battle, letting no emotion come even close. No matter the surprise, no matter the losses, all that was past, and all that counted was the present. 

"Master Chi'in," he said suddenly, "continue the strafing runs on the lead ships."

The Noghri did not reply, but calmly began to issue orders. Apart from Thrawn himself he seemed to be the only one who had not been stunned into paralysis by the lightning attack and the overwhelming forces opposing them. It did look bad, very bad, admittedly. 

The enemy commander did not even wait for the Grand Admiral's forces to be fully defeated, he had already begun sending troop carriers down toward Almashin's surface, and packs of coral-skippers were leisurely pursuing the evacuating ships. The Grand Admiral had quietly ordered Needa to cover the civilians' escape with his battle group. Now the Starhammer and her sister ships were methodically plucking the small, agile fighters from the sky, using all the knowledge the admiral had gained in the previous engagements. And still there were too many to keep them away from the fleeing Chiss transports for long. 

Soon now Thrawn would have to decide what to do. One choice was to make a stand, to keep on fighting for as long as he could, and risk his entire fleet in the process. The second choice was to draw out in good order, shielding the planet and the evacuating ships as best as he could. But as time went by and the longer the enemy continued his assault, he was running out of ships to put the second option into practice. The third choice then, the one he loathed the most, would be to abandon both the battle and the civilians to save at least part of his fleet, to be able to strike back another time. But if he backed out now, and abandoned Almashin, he would not survive for long. 

"How many drones aboard the ships?" he asked, not really caring who answered. It was Palleon, who had kept very quiet so far.

"Two hundred, sir."

Thrawn gave a weary nod. "Good. Send them out in a mushroom deployment."

Palleon risked a glance at the Noghri standing further down the bridge. "What about the fighters? Shouldn't we warn them?"

"No," the Grand Admiral said firmly. "It is all or nothing now. We won't be able to get out of this any conventional way." He paused shortly. "They are landing troops. I assume that Lord Skywalker has learned a thing or two from his battles on Nirauan."

"So have they," Teer Shikay reminded him quietly.

"A reasonable assumption," Thrawn agreed. "But nothing we can change. Commander Shikay, I want a broadcast to all ships."

"Yes, sir. At once."

He noticed the look that passed between Palleon and the commander, a look of despair, devoid of all hope. They knew what would be coming, a last rally of their remaining forces, a final address to the troopers out on the field. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tiny smile. Oh yes, he knew them well.

"You're on receive," Shikay told him quietly, when he returned. 

"Thank you," Thrawn answered with a nod and leaned a bit forward to make sure that he would be heard clearly across the ether. "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn with a message for all troops. I want to make three things clear: Firstly, bravery is not what I expect of you. What I expect is that you do your job, no less. Secondly, I want to express my utmost trust and faith in your abilities. I know you have all trained hard and prepared yourselves thoroughly for this battle. Remember that. And third and last," his voice dropped dangerously low, "anyone who disappoints my trust in any way will not survive this war, one way or the other. That is all. Thank you for your attention, and good hunting to all of us." Leaning back in his seat, the Grand Admiral closed his eyes with a pleased smile on his lips. If they were going to die, they might as well die with the right attitude.

Chi'in clan Rim'kai was observing the different screens installed into the station in front of him calmly, oblivious to the chaos that was raging outside. He was only intent on his fighters, keeping track of each single flight constantly both on the screens and over the comm, as well as through the Force. Among the surviving Sith the Noghri was evenly matched in potential with the Dark Lord, and his perceptiveness and hunting skills made his mind as dangerous as that of any of the two warlords leading this battle. He seldomly found himself forced to deploy some grand display of power to get his point across, and he proved that once again, when he deftly had the flights maneuver out of range of the drones that had been sent out on Thrawn's order, and exploded in a ring of fire around the Grand Admiral's trapped task force. 

Before the enemy had a chance to recover from the impact of the explosion, Chi'in sent all flights on an attack run toward the first row of enemies. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the looks Thrawn and Palleon gave him. It did not matter what they were thinking of him, as long as he could rely on both to do their job. His responsibility were the fighters, theirs were the deployment of the capital ships and – in Thrawn's case – the overall tactics. 

"Black Flight," Chi'in spoke quietly, "give me an update on target identification."

"Too many for us to catch them all," Naas Deron replied grimly.

"That's not what I want you to do right now. How many ships have landed already on Almashin?"

"Fifteen. More joining every minute."

"They will establish a corridor to defend the descending ships. And they have more than enough to hold us at bay at the same time," the Noghri mused aloud, risking a glance over at the Grand Admiral, who was seemingly listening intently. Chi'in saw the Chiss give him an almost imperceptible nod. "Black Flight, you are assigned on a scouting run to determine the likely position and layout of that corridor. Eisenhart out."

When he had ended the transmission he turned to face the Grand Admiral fully. "Sir, I had sent some y-wings out to look out for our reinforcements. I have confirmation for three battle groups that will be joining us."

"Good. Transmit their entry vectors, please."

"At once."

Chi'in waited until Thrawn had finished studying the data. The Chiss' glowing red eyes seemed to narrow somewhat as he looked up again. "Excellent. Master Chi'in, our ships will need more space to operate. These coralskippers are somewhat hampering us. I want you to get rid of them. Commander Shikay will be assisting you."

Standing behind the Grand Admiral's command chair, Gilead Palleon felt his jaw drop. That order was – arrogant, that was the sole fitting word. And Chi'in accepted it with barely a nod! Shaking his head in disbelief, the elderly captain leaned forward to address his superior. "Sir, what are you planning to do?"

"Chi'in will establish an explosive corridor to bring some order into this battle," the Grand Admiral explained. "Then we will feign retreat. They will focus on cracking Almashin's ground defenses and then we will strike back. By then our reinforcements should have reached the site."

"We have barely room to maneuver, sir," Palleon reminded him cautiously. 

Thrawn didn't look at him. "Wait and see," was all he said. 

The captain straightened again, resigned in their fate. The Grand Admiral knew what he was doing, and all he himself could do now was to trust the man and follow his orders. So he watched the battle outside, acutely aware of the stray shots that impacted against the Eisenhart's rapidly weakening shields. The only voice dinstinctly audible in the tense humming of the bridge was that of Chi'in. In a dazzling display of formation flying the forty remaining flights of the fleet set to work. Bit by bit they chewed pieces off the enemy's flanks, boring through their array with iron determination. Proton torpedoes, fired by swift corvettes that were following the fighters daringly, underscored the spectacle that was reminiscent of a giant fuse burning through the enemy ships. 

The maneuver lifted some pressure off Voss Parck's fleet that was being forced ever closer toward Almashin. The stealth cruisers reacted instantly, and renewed their efforts at holding the attacking Yuuzhan Vong vessels at bay. As expected, the explosive corridor thinned the Yuuzhan Vong fleet's array a bit, allowing the Star Destroyers some breathing space and room to retreat. A moment later the Eisenhart was slowly drawing back, and Palleon noticed the subtle changes the Grand Admiral was ordering in their own fleet array. Only a third or so was able to retreat, leaving the others to fend against the enemy on their own. As Thrawn had predicted, the enemy tightened his formation instantly, erecting an effective shield against the seemingly retreating Chiss and New Republic ships. 

"Corridor is operational," Chi'in announced suddenly.

The Grand Admiral, who had been intent on data streaming past on the screen installed into the right armrest of his chair, nodded mutely, then directed his gaze at the battle again. "Attack," he ordered, and the Eisenhart lurched forward again, picking up speed fast. 

At almost the same time the three promised battle groups, a mottled array of stealth cruisers and dreadnaughts, arrived at the battle site and immediately inserted themselves into the corridor that had been prepared for them by Chi'in's fighters. Palleon was grinning to himself when he saw the finished result of that clever maneuver. The outcome was a sandwich of different layers of friend and foe, and Thrawn had placed his own forces so that they again were pressing inward, against the enemy, instead of the other way round. Spreading out from Almashin there was the first layer, Voss Parck's stealth cruisers – and by now Almashin's gun emplacements on the ground had joined their fire – then a set of Yuuzhan Vong ships that had planned on defending their own, landing vessels, then the Chiss newcomers – fresh troops that threw their weight into the battle with visible enthusiasm – then another set of Yuuzhan Vong ships, and finally the Grand Admiral's own forces. 

"I guess we're even now," the captain breathed, but Thrawn shook his head. 

"They are breaking through the first line of defense, and will concentrate the invasion on Almashin. They will force us to surrender or else risk the planet's annihilation," he explained soberly. 

Palleon's mouth tightened in anguish. "Is there anything we can do to prevent that from happening?" he asked quietly. The Grand Admiral's answer was prompt and curt: 

"No. I pray that Lord Skywalker can convince them that invading Almashin is the last mistake they have made here today."

"We have a legion stationed toward the mountains, another toward the city," Voss Parck told the Dark Lord, frowning in concentration. "I don't think there's any point in risking one of them to attack that landing site on its own." He pointed at the large area they had marked off as being currently occupied by Yuuzhan Vong troop carriers. "If we move either one, they will be easy meat for their coralskippers. We have identified three more landing sites here, here and here. They are trying to close off the capital," he added.

"I can see that," Skywalker answered mildly. "The question is how to counter their measures. We will need fast carriers to move small groups to crucial sites. That way we may be able to avoid a wholesale massacre. What's this?" he asked suddenly, pointing at a grayish shadow at the very edge of the screen. 

Parck immediately let the computer focus on that section, It was enlarged and identified instantly. The admiral's eyes widened ever so slightly. "It's the Starhammer, sir. The Starhammer, the Star of Alderaan, the Rebel Hope II and five more. Eight star destroyers. Judging by the speed they're currently under, they'll be within range in one hour."  


"One hour," Anakin Skywalker echoed. "Then let's hope that your ships in orbit can hold out a little while longer. All right. We are splitting the legions into fifty contingents each. I want each contingent to man three carriers. Two additional ones will be empty and serve both as bait and as cover. You said we have two hundred Armored Assault Vehicles? We will split them into four battle groups and use them to seal off Anmedra. Quick now. We don't have any time to lose."

But Voss Parck couldn't react. His eyes were locked on another screen before him, on which an emergency message was displayed in all its cruelly precise detail. It had to have come in within the past few seconds.

"What is it?" the Dark Lord snapped impatiently.

Turning his head to face him, Admiral Voss Parck felt himself age by decades. "Csilla has fallen," he said, his voice trembling a bit. "Which means we cannot expect any reinforcements to come from that direction."

"General Sa'lym'a?"

"Missing, presumably dead." He straightened slowly, shrugging the shock off almost casually. They had their own battle to deal with. "Very well. Let's get moving."

Abandoning the civilian transports had been the hardest choice Lorth Needa had ever had to make. He had not left them completely defenseless, of course not, but he had decided to withdraw eight of his remaining twelve star destroyers to assist the ground defense of Almashin. The battle in space around the planet had moved into a temporary deadlock, with each force trying to overwhelm the other. He had barely been able to appreciate the Grand Admiral's brilliant maneuver, that had turned the slaughter of their forces back into an orderly battle, but now that the Starhammer was moving back toward the battle-field, the admiral could not suppress a proud little smile. 

Suddenly a claxon started wailing urgently, causing a few officers present on the bridge to grimace ever so slightly.

"Report," Needa snapped, and his second was with him instantly.

"Unidentified vessels starboard, approaching fast," Pter Feynhard informed him quickly. 

"Unidentified? Hail them immediately." Unidentified newcomers only meant that they belonged neither to the battle groups they had incorporated into their calculations for the battle of Almashin nor to the Yuuzhan Vong forces. But it by no means meant that they were friendly. 

"I have made contact," Captain Feynhard announced a moment later. "Their leader wishes to speak to our supreme commander." He held his head-comm out toward the admiral, who snatched it up somewhat brutally. 

"This is Admiral Lorth Needa, commander of the secondary task force of the Chiss-New Republic Alliance. Identify yourself."

"I will only confer with your supreme commander," a voice, decidedly young and decidedly arrogant, answered curtly. 

"Our supreme commander is currently somewhat busy, young man," Needa retorted snidely. "I fear you will have to contend yourself with me. State your case. And don't forget the identification this time, or else we will open fire. This is the only warning you will get."

Feynhard waved at him, trying to get his attention. "We've identified the ship type," he stage-whispered. "They are clawcraft. Chiss," he added helpfully. Needa gave him an appreciative nod, still waiting for an answer. It came at last, and the other spoke as briskly as he had before.

"Admiral Needa," he said, "I am Major Kalo'wyn, in command of First Royal Flight. Or what's left of it," he growled under his breath. "You may not yet be aware of it, but Csilla was attacked by an overwhelming Yuuzhan Vong force two days ago. The capital has fallen and the Emperor has been taken prisoner. We assume that he is with the battle group currently engaging your fleet."

"And now you want to free him? Tough luck," Needa replied coldly. "A kind advice for your benefit, Major, you will be better off joining us than trying to bail him out all by yourselves."

"Good advice, Admiral. I can see that your forces and ours are indeed busy and will be unable to assist us. Permission to join your command?"

"Permission granted, Major," the admiral answered with a smile. "Please hold yourselves available for further instructions." He disconnected the call and immediately rounded on Feynhard. "How many ships?"

"Fifteen," came the prompt reply. "Not very much."

"I wouldn't dismiss them easily. You and I both know the Chiss are no braggarts, and when this Major Kalo'wyn was seriously considering to attack the enemy on his own, his bravery has to have some merit. I guess you don't get to be commander of First Royal Flight just like that. Not with the Chiss." He frowned at the various screens spread out before him. "All right. As soon as we are within range you will relay all friendly ground activity on the forward screen and have the trackers mark the enemy landing sites. Those we are going to hit first. Perhaps Major Kalo'wyn and his people can run cover along with our own boys. And if we can crank this wreck up to more speed I'd appreciate it greatly," he added.

It is any commander's fate having to keep a level head in any situation. While bombs and molten rock projectiles impacted all around, as men were dying amidst explosions and the sky was raining death and destruction on frightened troops, it was their commander who still had to determine where to throw in another handful of soldiers, when to retreat, where to increase the defenses. With the men and women of contingents one to fifty, formerly Legion Gold, that task fell to Anakin Skywalker. 

He was trying very hard to not let the memories of the battles on Nirauan get to him, and desperately tried to use what he had learned so far to mute his all too acute awareness of the death and suffering of the beings around him to a more bearable level. If he could not succeed with that he would be useless. But so far he seemed to be winning the battle against nausea and dizziness. Jogging toward his personal speeder vehicle, the Dark Lord was already scanning the distant frontline he sought to join next, determining its weak spots and thinking up countermeasures to balance them out. 

He hopped onto the vehicle's transport platform and the speeder took off instantly. One of the troopers manning the transport nodded at him and handed him a set of head-phones. 

"Admiral Parck," the Chiss explained curtly when Anakin accepted the head-phones. 

"Skywalker here! What's new?" Anakin shouted over the constant roar of battle filling the background.

"We've cracked their transmission code!" Parck shouted back. "Seems as if the Warmaster himself is down here to conduct the battle!"

"Location?"

"East of your position! Closing in on Anmedra!"

"Excellent! Remember the codename Puket used to address me back on Nirauan? Next time you contact me use that one!"

"Understood, Cor'dan!" The connection broke. 

So. The warmaster himself. Though it was tempting, Anakin refrained from seeking the creature out. On the contrary. Let him chase across the battle-field to get at him. During the entire campaigns the Yuuzhan Vong had to have gotten two things straight. The Chiss-New Republic Alliance had two primary commanders. One, Grand Admiral Thrawn, they had engaged in space battles a few times by now, and he was currently conducting the efforts of the alliance's forces at Almashin. The other they had met on Nirauan, where he had made quite an impression on them with his sorcery, Anakin was sure. In addition to what Warmaster Marayl Carr had experienced on Laa'kuan with the late Roj Kell, that offered only one conclusion to this thought. 

Marayl Carr would mount any effort necessary to kill the Cor'dan himself. 

Anakin twisted around in his precariously balanced seat on top of the transport platform to gaze at the gray-skinned alien seated in a crouch behind him. Andarack looked expectantly up at him out of huge dark eyes. Andarack, who had been Franzis Sarreti's Sith agent, who was now serving the Dark Lord. A Noghri with very special abilities. 

"My lord," the young alien began, sensing the other's mood. "How may I serve you?"

"I am planning on moving the frontlines toward Anmedra," Anakin explained at length. "I want you to take a speeder bike and infiltrate the capital. You will wait there until I give you permission to join the battle again."

"My lord, Chi'in clan Rim'kai specifically ordered me to act as your bodyguard," the Noghri protested. Anakin smiled. 

"I know. And you will fulfill that assignment too, I promise. Now get going."

When another icon representing one of his fighters winked out Chi'in flinched ever so slightly. 

Of the forty flights only half were left, and even Black Flight had suffered some losses, like the one just now. With a heavy heart the Noghri Sith Lord keyed his comm to Black Lead's private frequency.

"Report, Black Lead," he ordered quietly.

For a while there was silence at the other end, and Chi'in imagined the other's face, seated in the flexible pilot-couch of the modified TIE-fighter, watching the battle outside, watching the explosions highlighted on the viewport bubble like bright fireworks. 

When Naas Deron answered his voice was rough and devoid of emotion. "Lost Black Two on the last run, sir."

"I know," Chi'in answered gently. 

"I suppose she was too late to avoid that last volley."

"She was tired. You must be tired too," the Noghri suggested.

"That doesn't change the facts, Master," Deron retorted, and a tiny edge had crept into his voice, a dangerous edge that Chi'in knew he had to control. The last word, he noticed, had been audible over the bridge speakers, and he sought the Grand Admiral's gaze with a frown. But Thrawn did not react. Meanwhile, Deron continued. "I guess we are all tired of this," he stated bitterly.

"Perhaps."

The entire bridge had fallen silent, each crew member realizing the importance of this exchange, each one of them aware of how serious the outcome of this conversation might become. 

"Permission to resign command?" Naas Deron asked hopelessly.

"Rejected. I am sorry. We are still in the middle of this."

There was a sound close to a wail at the other end. "You cannot – " Deron broke off with a sob. "Damn!" he roared, loud enough to hurt Chi'in's sensitive ears. 

"Commander Deron," the Grand Admiral injected quietly, "can you hear me?"

Again there was silence. "You were listening in on us?" The Sith Lord's voice was thick with betrayal.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Thrawn replied coolly. "Though I understand your loss, and share it, I must remind you of the duties you accepted when joining my command, Master Deron. I will make no exceptions. Not for anyone, or any reason."

The silence was even longer this time, and Chi'in felt his heart shrink ever so slowly, turning into a hard knot of empathy and suppressed fear. 

"I understand," Naas Deron said at last, and the Noghri could sense the peace that flooded the other's awareness suddenly. He had made his choice. Taking the head-phones off, Chi'in closed his eyes. "In that case, Grand Admiral, I regret having to leave your command," Deron continued. "You claim to understand, and I trust those aren't just empty words. Not that I care," he added with a cruel laugh. "Don't worry, though. I won't abandon the battle. I am sorry, Master. But I owe it to her," he concluded in a whisper. 

Then there was only static.

Chi'in swallowed his sorrow bitterly, before he resumed his own task. "Black Three. Come in."

"Yes, sir?"

"Ashford, you will assume command of Black Flight."

"Now? But, sir –"

"No but. Simply follow my orders. That is easy enough, right?"

"Yes, sir. What about – "

"Naas Deron is leaving Black Flight effectively. You are answerable directly to me. And no more explanations, Commander Ashford." 

With finalty he cut the newly appointed commander off and stared moodily into the distance. First Cronn, now Puket, and Deron most probaly wouldn't survive either. He was bent on avenging his lover with all means available to him, and Chi'in already pitied any Yuuzhan Vong vessel that crossed the desperate Sith Lord's path. When the first devastating explosion of Dark Side power spread across the battle-field like a shock-wave, the Noghri took a deep, needed breath. He had to move on, no matter what.

Back on Almashin the ground forces under Admiral Parck's command had fought their way toward the besieged city of Anmedra vailantly, and very soon the enemy would break through the defensive front comprised of two hundred AAVs. Once that happened, this battle would turn into very nasty street fights, and for the sake both of troopers and civilians that had to be avoided at all costs. 

Crouching behind a mobile machine gun, Anakin was trying to understand what Parck was trying to tell him. But there was too much interference. On a side note, he was pleased to hear the word 'Cor'dan' at least four times during the otherwise unsuccessful transmission. Good. If Marayl Carr had so far still been unsure about his nemesis' exact position, this short exchange should have given him a respectable lead to follow. 

"Run!" the sergeant commanding the machine gun's crew shouted suddenly, and Anakin almost laughed as he scrambled away, before a sizeable piece of super-heated rock smashed the gun and sent white-hot splinters flying wildly. He jumped to his feet unharmed, and squinted calculatingly at the not so distant houses. At a gesture of his hand the ground was torn open in a straight line from his own position straight through the thickest of battle, and toppled one of the Yuuzhan Vong's own armored vehicles. It exploded spectacularly.

Then Anakin sprinted toward the confused soldiers, detaching the handle of his lightsaber from his belt. Holding it in both hands he ignited the weapon and felt strenghtened by the reassuringly familiar snap-hiss as the red blade came to life. He plunged into the midst of Yuuzhan Vong warriors recklessly, throwing all caution over board. The Force was dancing within and without him, leading his movements and alerting him to any threat before it could even arise. Never before had he felt so connected with the Force, never before had he felt so comfortable with his own power. Despite the seriousness of the situation he felt like laughing. 

When a tall Yuuzhan Vong warrior, easily distinguishable from the others by the blood-red cloak of command secured at his shoulders by sharp, claw-like bone extensions, Anakin smiled for real. He held out his blade in a formal salute, but the Warmaster's amphistaff was already swinging at him, echoing the ferociousness of Marayl Carr's attack. Falling back two steps, Anakin dropped to one knee and drew his lightsaber across his adversary's belly as he rose again. Marayl Carr whirled away unscathed, his tough body armor having deflected the cut completely. He held the amphistaff apart from his body, ready to strike again. 

The attack came fast, and Anakin only had a split-second of warning, before the sharp edge of the staff cut at his legs. He jumped high, releasing the lightsaber from his grasp, and sent it tumbling end over end at the totally surprised Yuuzhan Vong. The Warmaster avoided decapitation through sheer luck. With startling agility he launched himself at the laser sword that had dropped to the ground beside him, and snatched up the handle deftly only a heart-beat before Anakin landed in front of him with a heavy thud. The smile that appeared on the Yuuzhan Vong's mutilated features was positively mean, and reaked of satisfaction.

"Will you, too, call for your gods for help?" he teased the Dark Lord, baring sharp teeth in a cruel grin. 

Anakin did not answer. Concentrating solely on the Warmaster, he did not even consider tearing his weapon free of the other's grasp. That was entirely unnecessary. Let Marayl Carr believe he was at his mercy, unarmed and alone amidst enemies. Indeed, more Yuuzhan Vong were closing in on the two combatants now, watching in fascination. Feinting left, Anakin made as if he was going to try and get his lightsaber back, and Marayl Carr immediately seized the opportunity to bring his own blade up. It came to rest against the Dark Lord's bared throat, pressing painfully into his flesh. Marayl Carr's expression turned triumphant, and out of the corner of his eyes Anakin could see the Warmaster's wrist rotate slowly, preparing to take his adversary's head right off. Just then the Dark Lord's eyes sought the Yuuzhan Vong Warmaster's gaze.

"Wrong move, little slave," he hissed, a nasty smile on his face. 

Marayl Carr's eyes widened in surprise and revelation, and to his credit he reacted instantly, whirling around to face the Noghri who was already moving in for the kill. Not without at least trying to behead Anakin, though, who dropped to the ground just in time. That way the Dark Lord had a spectacular view of what happened next. Jumping high, Andarack elegantly sailed over the amphistaff slashing at him, and with a predator's grace twisted his body around as he passed Marayl Carr's head, to plunge his drawn dagger straight into the creature's flesh at the base of his neck, severing the Warmaster's spine instantly. He dropped to the ground at the staggering Yuuzhan Vong's back light as a feather, and in anticipation of what was to come, Anakin pressed his face firmly into the soft ground in front of him. 

The blinding light explosion that Andarack commanded so well, was timed in unison with the thunderclap Anakin knew to be the impact of a star destroyer's heavy laser batteries. The Starhammer and her sister ships unleashed the awesome might of the well-named battle cruisers with pinpoint accuracy. Their fire slammed into the armored battle vehicles and ground them into the earth with ease, killing Yuuzhan Vong soldiers and war-beasts alike. Anakin fought for breath in the aftermath of that first wave of destruction.

Instantly, Andarack dropped to his knees beside him. "My lord, are you all right?" he asked worriedly, laying a small, clawed hand on Anakin's sweaty forehead. The Dark Lord turned glassy eyes on the Sith. 

"It will pass," he managed. "Help me up." Once standing again, Anakin noticed a familiar figure running across the battle-field to meet him. "Parck!" he roared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"This battle is over!" the admiral told him, laughing, as he stopped before him. "Needa is hacking them to pieces!"

The Dark Lord took a deep breath. "Excellent," he pressed out, fighting down his nausea valiantly. "Continue the offensive." 

He risked a glance up at the sky, but there was no chance to get a glimpse of the battle in space overhead. He could only hope that their victory down here would not be in vain. And then a powerful blast of darkness tore through his body, paralysing him for a single moment. Confused, he tried to determine the source of the outburst, and found it quickly. It shattered his heart into tiny pieces of grief as he realized what had happened up there. 

"Lord Skywalker, what is it?" Voss Parck asked anxiously, as he watched both Anakin and Andarack gazing at the sky in disbelief.

Turning clear blue eyes on the admiral, Anakin Skywalker gathered himself again, feeling an ancient duty pull at his soul in fervent voices of grief and vengeance. "I wish I could explain," he managed, and sought Andarack's dark-eyed gaze. Time was running out, it seemed. On all of them. 

TBC


	38. Chapter 37 - A New Beginning

****

Chapter 37 – A New Beginning

By the time the fleet had finally left Ooonda, Luke Skywalker had been about ready to chew rocks. Ishare Luvo had done everything he could to delay their departure time and again, until Nuron had confronted him and told him unmistakably that he was betraying his vow, and if he continued that way the Council of Hearts would not spare his life again. Luke remembered the scene vividly, the look in Ishare Luvo's dark, liquid eyes, the young Zabrak female who confronted him, a warrior in her own right. Never before had Nuron Sarin's presence been so strong, so clear, never before had her beauty been so deadly. He held that precious memory close, as epitome of what they were fighting for. Freedom, grace and understanding. 

Now, after four days spent on Ishare Luvo's flagship, Luke was restless. The delay – the unnecessary delay – might have cost them too much time, time they needed badly. Why had that damn, stubborn man not been able to overcome his pride earlier? And Luke had been unable to convince the warlord to act, had been unable to unlock the other's heart and senses. But Nuron had managed. She had found the right words and tone, the right stance, to make things happen. And Luke was endlessly grateful to her for having performed that miracle. 

"Not long now," a soft voice said next to him, and Luke turned his head to give Ishare Luvo a withering glare. Where was Nuron?

"I pray we are not too late," Luke answered slowly, deliberately, and the other smiled that strange, horrible smile of his that split his face cleanly. 

"Pray all you wish, Skywalker," the warlord growled. "Prayers no save anyone."

Before he could reply, Luke felt his body almost lifted from the deck by an invisible fist that choked him, crushed his lungs mercilessly, and poured icy coldness into his very soul. "Stars be merciful," he whispered, breathlessly, once the wave of darkness had passed. 

"We here. Brace yourself," Ishare Luvo told him dispassionately, obviously ignorant of what had just happened. 

And then, with startling abruptness, the ship whose name Luke found himself unable to pronounce, clawed its way back into realspace, and into chaos. Immediately the warlord left the Jedi's side, striding over to his own command post at the heart of what passed as the bridge on this vessel. In a clear, cold voice Ishare Luvo started bellowing orders at his crew in their native tongue, exlcuding Luke from what was going on. But he did not need words to know what was happening. Death and pain lingered all around, and the blinding explosions that erupted all over the battle-field told their own story. 

Something had gone seriously wrong, and they had come almost too late. No, Luke corrected himself, when after the first shock he could gather a rough count of enemy vessels in the vicinity. Not in time, after all. All they could do was postpone the inevitable. 

"Too many," he breathed, his heart sinking further. The ragged shreds of a clever battle setup were being rendered to pieces by the relentless attack of the Yuuzhan Vong ships, and the Grand Admiral's fleet was being crushed and broken as he watched. Horrified, Luke saw all his hopes and dreams burn with their fleet. 

But then, suddenly, a hand fell on his shoulder and he found himself propelled around to face Nuron, her golden eyes unfathomable. "Come," was all she said.

Following her swiftly, through the dank, cold crawlways of the ship, Luke scrambled after her half-blinded by despair. They made their way to the hangar inside the ship's womb and Nuron dragged him toward the two scout-ships the Mahsenda, Al'than'erudo's stealth cruiser, has lent them for their private use. The Mahsenda herself had carried the commander to Almashin earlier, and would be somewhere out there, fighting against the Yuuzhan Vong above the planet. If she still existed. 

Wordlessly, Nuron worked the lock of one of the ships and impatiently gestured for Luke to take his own. He did as ordered, feeling numb, but there was a slight hope that the taste of battle would reawaken his spirit once more. He remembered the enthusiasm with which they'd set out and that had died a little with each day Ishare Luvo had managed to delay the fleet's departure. He dropped listlessly into the pilot's seat.

"Scout One to Scout Two, Luke, don't fall asleep on me now," Nuron chided him over the comm. 

Hurriedly running the ship through the preflight checks, Luke found himself grinning, despite the circumstances. "Asleep? Nope, I suppose this nice melee out there will be a real eye-opener."

"Glad you agree," she answered almost tenderly. And then her ship lifted off the deck cautiously, and made its way toward space. A second blast of Dark Side power hit them, and Luke felt his breath falter again, when he could catch a glimpse of the absolute fury that was behind those attacks. "Luke!" Nuron shouted over their comm, sounding frantic. "I recognize the source! That is Naas Deron!"

In an instant the young Jedi understood what that had to mean, and he felt a thick lump rise in his throat. "All right," he whispered, then continued in a louder voice, so Nuron could hear him. "Let's go see if we can track him down," he explained, drawing through the warship's hangar bay into space after his companion, "we could use a bit of help with this mess."

He let his ship plunge straight down, to give Ishare Luvo's gunners free room to shoot without hitting their own. He noticed immediately that no fighters had been launched yet, that the warship was still on a steady approach toward the battle raging above Almashin. Ishare Luvo probably wanted to assess the situation first. From his new vantage point, Luke let his eyes play over the fleet that he had helped assemble at Ooonda. Thirty ships in total, five heavy cruisers contributed by Ishare Luvo, fifteen black, chitinuous battleships from the Star People themselves, and ten Likket ships that Luke found hard to imagine engaging in battle. They seemed to consist solely of two giant, slender pincers connected by a hard bubble that contained the command center of the ship. The only thing that had reassured him somewhat on those ships had been the grunt of approval he had heard from Ishare Luvo, when those ten ships had joined their fleet. 

Well. Today they would all get a chance to prove their worth.

The battle had taken on an intense urgency that seemed to swallow everyone. If one had had the time and muse to observe the different ships from afar, one would be astounded by the maddening speed of the attacks and counter-offensives. Everyone was doing his or her best in this furious confrontation, as the Chiss-New Republic Alliance Fleet fought for its survival. Grand Admiral Thrawn was submerged in his very own world of sounds and images, that were racing with uncanny speed and accuracy along neural lanes to be connected into a greater picture, evaluated and sorted through. In a moment five different maneuvers were examined, three rejected, the remaining two put into action instantly, while his mind was already calculating on the concequences of these actions and planned the next few steps ahead. 

Everyone's attention on the Eisenhart's bridge was focused on the Grand Admiral, waiting for his orders, carrying them out without second thoughts. Gilead Palleon and Teer Shikay were circling the bridge incessantly, observing the operators and liaisons closely, to make sure that every order was carried our perfectly, down to the tiniest detail that the two seasoned commanders knew almost as intimately as Thrawn himself. Only Chi'in sometimes added slight modifications, but he was allowed, of course, since he had the last say concerning the fighters, and could forsee events that might endanger the overall scheme and tactics. Therefore the Sith Lord had been dismissed from the Grand Admiral's awareness, just as anyone else, as long as they did what they were told. The one wild card in this battle was Naas Deron, as expected, who was using his own judgement to select and destroy targets. Which was another reason to leave Chi'in alone. The Noghri was, after all, the only one who could prevent their own ships from being damaged or worse, annihilated, in the backwash of his student's devastating attacks. 

And then, at last, their long-awaited reinforcements from Ooonda arrived.

Diverting his attention for a moment, the Grand Admiral took a quick count of the newcomers. Thirty ships, divided into Lappayan Shock Cruisers, Star Ships and even Likketi Shear Ships. A cocked eyebrow was the only visible show of the Grand Admiral's satisfaction. But why was the fleet commander approaching the battle so cautiously? Of course, he needed time to assess the situation, but if he did not act soon – before he could finish the thought, all thirty ships took up speed, and scores upon scores of smaller fighters raced ahead of them, joining the thick of battle. A smile tugged shyly at Thrawn's lips, before he turned toward Palleon.

"Captain, hail the newcomers and introduce us to their commander."

"At once, sir!" Palleon exclaimed, his joy and relief audible in his tone. There was a general air of optimism rising throughout the bridge crew, and for once Thrawn left his people that moment of blissful peace. They would have to concentrate again soon enough. At the edge of his hearing, the Grand Admiral could hear the captain discussing with the comm operator, then say more loudly: "This is Captain Gilead Palleon, commander of the Star Destroyer Eisenhart, transmitting position now. Welcome to Almashin."

An alien voice answered, and unmistakable affront and challenge. Thrawn's face paled with fury at that insolence, and he waved at Palleon to redirect the call. [I am in command of this fleet], he explained coldly in response to the Lappa's question, [And I had been expecting you much earlier, according to Al'than'erudo's report.]

[The Star Alliance is with you in this battle,] the other commander answered calmly, [you should not doubt our committment.] As if to emphasize that statement, the larger cruisers of the Star Alliance Fleet spread out in a cunning deployment that put them behind the biggest Yuuzhan Vong cruisers. They certainly did not think small. 

[I appreciate committment, Salvar,] Thrawn replied, using the Lappayan title for a general in battle deliberately. [Yet I would appreciate action even more. Do you agree to submitting to my command?]

[I will not let a Chiss command our ships,] the Salvar retorted harshly. [But you can trust in our own abilities, Grand Admiral.]

That certainly had been clear words. [Then I am looking forward to witness a display of those abilities anytime.]

[Watch and learn, Grand Admiral,] the Lappa commander laughed, and disconnected the call. 

  
But Thrawn knew already what to expect of these ships. He had seen them in action often enough, after all, during his campaigns into the Unknown Regions. The ships interesting him the most were the Likketi Shear Ships, because he admired their efficiency greatly. So, leaning a bit closer toward the forward screen, he beckoned for Shikay to relay the images of the newly arrived fleet onto the big screen. The first Shear Ship, pincers closed for attack, was approaching one of the giant worldships, looking ridiculously small and fragile against the bulk of the Yuuzhan Vong vessel. 

Then the Likketi ship was quickly joined by its nine companions. They spread around the enemy ship, providing almost no targeting mass for the Yuuzhan Vong, and then stabbed toward the giant worldship's hull in unison. In the magnified image of the attack, Thrawn saw the surface of the slender pincers shiver as the Shear Ships closed in on the gravitational anomalies that powered the worldship. But the Likketi had adapted to such anomalies, their own world and way of life required that adaption, and managed to approach unscathed. With surgical precision the ten Shear Ships stabbed through the thick hull of the Yuuzhan Vong vessel like needles. The Grand Admiral knew exactly what would happen next. The sharp shears would open gradually, and rip the hull open to expose the ship's innards to space. As large as the sentient Yuuzhan Vong ship was, it would be immensely weakened, if not killed by that attack. 

Meanwhile the ten Lappayan Shock Cruisers had split into two groups, each pack closing in on one worldship respectively. The Shock Cruisers were very functional vessels, also adapted to the Lappa's homeworld and their own needs. These ships could survive hours in Foulhan's Deep Sea, enduring unbelievable gravitational pressure, and they were outfitted with an effective system of compensators to counter the frequent seaquakes, the Lappas used to flush out the great herbivores of the Deep Sea when hunting. Those compensators also replaced conventional shielding, and with some luck would shut down the Yuuzhan Vong ships' dovin basals locally, and allow the Lappayan gunners to punch through the enemy ships' hulls. 

"This is amazing," Palleon commented from where he had stopped behind the Grand Admiral's command chair to gaze at the spectacle outside. "They are quite effective, aren't they," he added, sounding astonished. 

"Quite amazing, yes. But this battle is far from over." Seeking the captain's gaze, the Grand Admiral nodded curtly. "All personnel back to their stations." He gave Palleon a tight smile. "Let's play."

Yana had managed to rise again and now stood swaying in the midst of her cabin, her thoughts racing. She knew that she must look a mess, but what would rather have sparked the frightened expression to appear on Roganda's face, she speculated, was the wild look in the Empress' eyes. She had vowed to herself that she would end it here, one way or another. Now she was gathering the Dark Side to her, reveling in the black velvety cloak that was both heat and icy cold at once, that intoxicated her with unimagined power. Her resolve had been strengthened by what she could sense from the battle-field, the brief, delicious moments of horror before death, the agony, and, not to forget, the dark fury that was being unleashed time and again in blasts of immensely destructive potential. When the unknown dark presence, source of those outbursts, started attacking the Warmaster's worldship, Yana felt each impact like a thrust to her own body, spurring her on. 

Infinitely slow, she turned toward the door that sealed her cabin off from the rest of the ship and pointed a hand at the thick surface. It was torn apart like paper. Roganda gave a small scream of surprise or shock, Yana was not sure, before she herself strode through hole and out into the corridor. The younger woman followed at once. Together they stood there, undecided. Yana only remembered the way to the bridge, the way to Marayl Carr's quarters, and to Ly Sul's laboratories. But how to get off board? She gave Roganda a pensive look, that caused the other to open her eyes wide in denial. 

"Don't even think about it!" Roganda demanded, shaking her head.

"You will leave now, Roganda, and you will escape." It was a command, laced heavily with dark side power. "I will protect you for as long as I can."

"No, you must come with me," Roganda pleaded, her delicate features desperate. "I have only this one friend left. And I do not want to lose you too," she confessed, but her emotions could not reach the cold place Yana found herself in. She shook her head firmly. 

"You will leave, if you don't want to risk a fight with me. I will not spare anyone aboard, do you understand? Not anyone."

Gulping down an answer hurriedly, the former concubine nodded. Then, gathering her courage again, she went forward to hug Yana tightly. "I pray you can hear me," she whispered, "wherever you are. Don't let pride get the better of you. It only leads to suffering. Just look at me for example." Disengaging once more she gave the Empress a sad smile. 

"Take care, Yana Dar. There's still time to end this another way." And with those words she whirled away and ran, vanishing around a corner. 

Dumb-founded, Yana did not know what to think. But an insistent voice in the back of her mind told her with a sneer that friends were for weaklings and cowards, who could not deal with difficulties on their own. That she had sworn revenge and could not back out of that oath, not without betraying herself. She raised her head determinedly and stalked toward the bridge, intent on showing the Warmaster that she knew exactly how to play. But when she was only a few corridors away from the bridge, another explosion rocked the vessel, throwing her off her feet. She slid against a wall hard, and tasted blood in her mouth, where she had bitten her tongue. Coughing, Yana struggled to her feet again, but the ship had started twisting and squirming in slow, powerful moves. All she could think of was that the worldship had been mortally wounded, that the last blast had hit the bridge. 

Anger took hold of her at the thought of having been deprived of her vengeance, but then the survivors started coming toward her, seeking a safer place to continue the battle. Most warriors did not spare her a second glance, but then a familiar figure appeared, that launched herself at Yana instantly. Alyn Cha's black eyes were blazing with fury as she brought her hand around hard to hit the Empress' face. Totally surprised, Yana fell back, the dark cloak surrounding her dissolving fast with each additional blow that found her. 

"You!" Alyn Cha screamed. "You think you can escape us? Unworthy infidel! Your warriors shame us with their weakness, and you are not less coward than they!" Her voice had taken on an almost hysterical tone, and Yana managed a smile.

"I gather the Warmaster has perished in the last attack?"

Alyn Cha did not answer. She threw herself at the Empress with a wordless howl, and though Yana tried to shield herself, she was knocked down again, and before she could react a blinding pain roared through her head, rendering her unconscious.

Luke took a deep breath and surveyed the battle-field with much more calm than he had felt just a few moments earlier. He and Nuron had latched onto Naas Deron, trying to contain the damage he caused in his personal crusade that left the remains of dozens of small and larger Yuuzhan Vong ships in its wake. The power he deployed was immense, and each outburst jolted through Luke's awareness like the crack of a whip. But now Deron was gradually running out of targets. The Star Alliance ships had effectively turned the tide, and the Grand Admiral had not hesitated in making the most of this. The Yuuzhan Vong were not only being decimated, they were pulling out, limping into safety slowly, pursued by the relentless star fighters of the alliance. 

"Scout Two to Scout One," he transmitted tiredly, "permission to land?"

Nuron did not answer for a while, then muted the receiver for Luke's channel, but left the audio on, allowing him to listen in on her as she hailed Naas Deron. "Black Lead, come in," she said, then repeated the plea when no answer came. Impatiently she snarled: "Damn you, Naas Deron, answer!" A ferocious growl underscored that order, and wonder of wonders, there was a strange, cackling noise on the other end, then Naas Deron said:

"Go baby-sit someone else, girl. I don't need you shepherding me:"

"Who are you calling 'girl', you nerf-brained idiot! And we are not baby-sitting you, in case you haven't noticed, this is an escort."

"An escort, huh? This is even better. And I don't need one either."

To Luke's shock Nuron coolly fired a precise shot at Naas Deron's TIE, clipping his right wing effectively, and tipping him belly-first toward Luke. Acting out of impulse, the young Jedi switched to ion power to disable the Sith Lord's ship. There was a furious scream that echoed throughout the Force, sending ripples of darkness toward the young couple once more. Luke deflected them easily. 

"Oops," Nuron commented, "seems you are losing control. Dear me, you are going to crash against the planet. Need an escort to bring you down?"

"Bitch!" Naas Deron snarled, the vehemence of that single word startling Luke, then the Sith Lord deftly brought the TIE into something resembling control, but the small fighter continued to fall toward Almashin, drawn in by the planet's gravity.

Overriding the mute, Luke whispered fiercely: "We cannot just let him crash!"

"Not what I intend to do," the Zabrak answered grimly. "Let's go."

They dived after the tumbling TIE-fighter, but a warning blow of dark power choked Luke's breath off, and let black spots dance before his eyes. 

"Last warning," Naas Deron told them, suddenly sounding icy cold. "This is my battle, and you will not interfere. I deserve that much respect, I think."

"You don't deserve a senseless death!" Nuron railed angrily. "You are throwing everything away for nothing!"

"Nothing?" came the whispered reply. "Nuron, I have lost everything I had already. Puket is dead, and she was all I needed to go on. Now there's nothing left." He sounded incredibly tired, and Luke again felt his heart clench with pity and sorrow. 

"What about your obligations to us? What about Lord Skywalker?" Nuron tried again, stubbornly refusing to give up yet. 

The answer came just as stubbornly. "He of all people will understand."

"And Chi'in?"

"There's nothing I owe him," Deron replied, but he sounded shaken. 

"Deron, don't do this," Nuron said at last, her voice small. "If you choose to die now, here at this battle, you will have betrayed her memory. She would have wanted you to go on, I know."  


"How? How do you want to know?"

Luke felt his heart still, waiting for the Zabrak's answer, but in the very last instant he realized that all this exchange had served for was to provide a distraction from Deron's true intention. Blue eyes widening in shock and sudden grief, Luke screamed: "Pull up!" just as a dark green wall of trees rose up to embrace him. In the last moment, his ship's belly tearing noisily across the tree tops, did he manage to get his ship's nose up again, and he immediately checked for Nuron, his mind frozen in panic. He saw her ship, dancing over the forest roof, for a moment getting out of control, but she managed to straighten the fighter once more. The only one missing was Naas Deron. There had been no explosion, Luke knew, and he had felt nothing that would have pointed toward the Sith Lord's death. Drawing his ship into a wide arc he returned to where he thought the other had crashed, and Nuron followed his lead wordlessly. 

"We'll find him," Luke told her soothingly, "don't worry."

Roganda was trembling like a leaf in high wind, and her hands were shaking madly, but she had managed to quell her fear to a point where her heart did not threaten to leap out of her mouth. Wearing the cognition hood of a stolen coral skipper she felt suddenly very grateful both for the modifications Ly Sul had performed on her and for what little training her master had provided her with before she had become his greatest disappointment. She was one with the ship, her own mind entwined with its own. It felt strange, and somehow frightening, but she could sense the ship's grudging trust in her, the way it responded to her hesitant commands deftly. 

In hindsight her escape had been ridiculously easy. Making use of the chaos that permeated the worldship after the almost fatal hit delivered by whoever had last attacked them, Roganda had followed the warriors to the hangar and crawled into one of the unused passages that led up toward the coral skippers attached to the body launching ridges of the ship. No one had stopped her. Perhaps that fighter's pilot had died in the attack, but she did not really care about that, as long as it was her who escaped on board the small vessel. Now, clumsily directing the ship through the wreckage littering the battle-field, she was thankful for the sentient ship's own initiative, but acutely aware of the fact that she was in mortal danger of being taken for an enemy pilot. 

Sweating profusely, she wracked her brain for any way to contact her allies, to make it clear somehow that she was no Yuuzhan Vong, even though her ship was of Yuuzhan Vong design. When a flight of TIEs swarmed toward her, though, she knew it was too late. The only idea that came to mind now was to coax the coral skipper up to more speed. Through the cognition hood she watched her pursuers from that dizzying, all-encompassing viewpoint that allowed her to see everything in a 360 degree radius. The Yuuzhan Ving fleet was retreating, and with it the ship she had left Yana Dar on. 

The coral skipper cried out in pain when a laser bolt seared its hull. Gasping in response, Roganda tried to send soothing thoughts at the ship, tried to convince it to stay calm. But more shots lanced at them, threatening her life and that of her ship constantly. Only belatedly did she realize that the TIEs were trying to shepherd her back toward Almashin, probably to finish her there more easily. The coral skipper responded to her frantic pleas and came around in a circle to put Almashin in her direct line of sight. When she got closer toward the planet, she noticed two more ships rising fast toward her, and heaved a resigned sigh. To her great surprise the TIEs on her trail broke off the pursuit and instead formed a loose circle around her ship. An escort! 

Triumphantly, Roganda transmitted her joy and calm over to the ship, easing its mind gradually. They had recognized her! Somehow. Smiling to herself impishly, Roganda felt relief flood her body in a warm, gentle wave. But almost instantly guilt stabbed through her mind again. Yana was still on board that Yuuzhan Vong worldship, all alone. Turning her head, Roganda watched the last of their ships wink out of realspace. 

__

We will come and get you, she vowed silently. _No matter what it takes_.

Smoke hung heavily over the ruins of Anmedra's northern parts, where the Yuuzhan Vong troops had almost managed to break through the Chiss' defenses of the city. But by now the sounds of battle had died all across the site, leaving behind the busy roar of demolition and reconstructing of buildings, the wailing sirens of medic vans and the frequent cheers that followed the Dark Lord and Voss Parck wherever they went to inspect their remaining troops. Anakin felt a bit uncomfortable with this, especially when their transport finally stopped in front of the Syndics' severe headquarters. Bal'maw'narda stood atop the staircase leading up to the front door, with his fellow Syndics and councillors hanging back a bit.

Evening was falling gradually, and it seemed to Anakin that the dimming light made the Chiss' eyes glow more fiercely. Hopping off the transport he waited for Voss Parck and Andarack to join him, then turned toward a crowd of civilians – having been too late to leave with the evacuating ships that would need to be recalled soon – that had assembled in the square in front of the Syndic Council Chambers in apprehensive silence. When they saw him wave a ragged cheer went up, growing louder and louder until it filled the entire plaza. 

"May the star of the Chiss Empire never fade!" the Dark Lord called out, and the cheer became a deafening roar. 

Pivoting on his heels, Anakin started up the stairs, his two companions in tow. They came to a halt a step below the top platform, waiting for Bal'maw'narda to admit them. The elderly Chiss was smiling, even though his stately appearance was slightly marred by traces of soot that covered his white hair and his regal clothes.

"Well spoken, Lord Skywalker," the Syndic replied, and gave a pensive nod, undoubtedly thinking about the loss of their throne world, Csilla, and the Emperor's capture by the enemy. "Almashin thanks the Dark Lord and the New Republic for their valiant effort in defending her," he continued at last. "We have just received word from the fleet that reports victory. The Yuuzhan Vong are retreating. I doubt they will be back soon," he added softly. "Will you come inside? You will need rest, I am sure. Please, do not refuse that invitation."

Anakin returned the Chiss' smile amiably. "Thank you for your hospitality, Syndic. We accept gladly." Anxiously, he followed the others into the complex, and as soon as they had left the crowd behind all formalities were dropped instantly. 

"Your son is on his way here," Bal'maw'narda informed him as he led the way toward the guest quarters. "He will arrive within the next hour."

"Thank you," Anakin replied, relieved. "What more?"

"Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo will be joining us also, along with Master Chi'in, Admiral Needa and Major Kalo'wyn of First Royal Flight."

Anakin stopped. This had to be the first time in years that Thrawn was allowed to set foot on a Chiss world ever since having been exiled! He could not suppress a grin as he turned to face Bal'maw'narda. "That is very good news, Syndic. But I can sense there is something else."

"Friends have announced their arrival. You know them, I believe. Sergeant Jixton and Mara Jade."

"They are coming here?" Anakin exclaimed, surprised. "Whatever for?"

"They did not say," Bal'maw'narda answered drily. "In here, please. I will be expecting you in the Council Chamber in exactly an hour's time."

Almost an hour later, with a few minutes to spare, Anakin was freshly showered and revitalised through a short meditation, and he took the cleaned clothes spread out on the unused bed gratefully. Things weren't looking so bad any more. True, they still had a remainder of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet to deal with, and they still had to try and free the Emperor, but he felt that they could manage that too, after having thwarted the attack today. He stepped into the hallway and cautiously closed the door behind him, before he turned toward the administrative wing of the complex, finding Andarack and Voss Parck already waiting for him at the next intersection. Both seemed rested and cleaned up, and Andarack in particular appeared very content. No wonder. After all, he had been honored with the worthiest kill in the ground battle of Almashin. For the Sith warrior that was reward enough. 

Together they made their way to the Council Chamber, but when they closed in on the intimidatingly large double doors, a joyful yelp caught Anakin's ear and he looked around, slightly bewildered, to find Luke sprinting toward him. Nuron followed at a more measured pace, with Roganda Ismaren at her side. The boy practically bounded into his father's arms, his young face beaming happily. Deeply moved by his son's affectionate greeting Anakin held him tightly for a while, not at all embarrassed to be so intimate in front of watching eyes. This was his son, after all, and he had not seen him in months. 

"Luke," he said at last, gently pushing the boy a bit back, to hold him at a short distance, and took the liberty to look him up and down, checking for new scars. But he seemed okay. "You had me mightily worried, I must confess," he admitted, smiling. 

Luke laughed. "What? With Nuron watching my back and Kell holding my hand all the way?"

"Don't remind me," Anakin growled, but his expression softened quickly, when they were joined by the Zabrak and Roganda. "You did a great job, Nuron. He's still alive." With a wink at Luke, he gave her a sharp, military bow. A rare smile appeared on the Zabrak's fiercely beautiful face and she returned the gesture in kind. 

"You are too generous, my lord," she answered drily, then wrapped an arm around Luke's waist. "He was not so bad himself. A true Sith."

Tactfully ignoring his son's rising blush, Anakin turned his attention on Roganda Ismaren. "It is a gift to find you alive and well," he said somberly. He hesitated, but asked nevertheless: "And what about the Empress?"

"She is still in enemy hands, I fear," the former concubine replied quietly. "We have to free her," she added in a fervent whisper.

"And we will," the Dark Lord promised. 

The sound of boot steps approaching the antechamber brought his head up, and a smile appeared on his lips once more when he saw who it was. Grand Admiral Thrawn, dressed in his usual white uniform, was flanked by Lorth Needa and another Chiss, Major Kalo'wyn, Anakin guessed. But Chi'in was missing. Frowning a bit, he went to meet the three commanders. 

"Good work," Thrawn greeted him curtly and spared an appreciative nod at Voss Parck, who accepted it wordlessly. His good mood somewhat doused, Anakin turned with the others to walk back toward the Council Chamber. "We will be late," the Chiss admiral concluded and went ahead without another word. But Anakin managed to catch Needa before they followed the Grand Admiral. 

"Admiral, where is Chi'in? I was told he would be with you."

"Master Chi'in is a much wanted man today, it would seem," Needa replied with a tiny smile. "We were intercepted a few corridors back by two personalities of shady reputation. They seemed to want to discuss something with him."

Anakin grinned. "Jix and Mara. Of course. Well," he shrugged. "I suppose he won't be missing all that much. And we _will_ be late, just as Thrawn predicted."

"And we all know his predictions are always on target," Lorth Needa added with mock severity. 

Both men entered the Council Chamber amidst low chuckles of shared amusement and relief. But the assembly that had gathered here was anything but jovial. Especially Thrawn seemed uncharacteristically tense. Eyes flicking over toward Bal'maw'narda, Anakin found the old Syndic deliberately ignoring the Chiss warlord. It appeared that Thrawn's past crimes might have been accepted, but not forgiven. It was a very thoughtful and quiet Dark Lord who joined the gathering, taking a place next to his son. _One battle won, and the war not over ye_t, he thought, catching Luke's smile. 

Luke noticed the pensive expression on his father's face and it worried him. They had won a great battle today, and even though the war was not yet won, they had gained some breathing space that would allow them to prepare for the finale. Slowly, he averted his gaze again and looked over at the Grand Admiral, who, at Bal'maw'narda's quiet request, rose to make his report on the battle of Almashin. The admiral's bright white uniform stood in crass contrast to the somber colors that dominated the Council Chamber, but Luke thought it emphasized the importance of Thrawn's committment and actions in today's fighting.

The Chiss stood at ease, hands crossed lightly on his back as he faced the Council of Syndics. "Honored Councilors, it is my humble pleasure to report space around Almashin secured," he began smoothly, his voice utterly calm. "Scouts have been deployed to confirm the enemy's departure and the remaining ships are set on yellow alert for now. The losses in total number forty-two capital ships, roughly two thirds of our original fleet strength, plus two hundred star fighters lost or damaged. The ground battle cost us a third of our troops stationed here, and thanks to Lord Skywalker we did not lose more. An estimate of the enemy's losses leaves fifty Yuuzhan Vong vessels unaccounted for and I presume they all managed to escape unscathed and will have to be dealt with in the near future." The Grand Admiral's face darkened somewhat as he continued. "On a greater scale our losses are much graver, though. Csilla has reportedly been conquered by the enemy, leaving fifteen million inhabitants either dead or captive on the planet alone, and thirty million in the entire system in grave danger. The Home Fleet was decimated by almost ninety percent. General Sa'ly'ma, in charge of Csilla's defenses, is presumably dead, having been reported missing in action, and reliable reports confirm that His Revered Highness Emperor Ja'han'mandana has been taken by the enemy. "

Luke paled at hearing that cold account of what were staggering losses. Fifteen million either dead or imprisoned. Thirty million more imperiled, and the Emperor the Yuuzhan Vong's prisoner. His skin tightened with silent dread as he remembered Roj Kell telling him that the Yuuzhan Vong liked to sacrifice their captives, and he remembered even more vividly the ancient Sith's violent death itself. He could tell by the mood permeating the chamber, and, more expressively, by the faces of the assembly, that all of them shared his worries here. 

But the Grand Admiral continued, seemingly unpertubed. "Salvar Ishare Luvo, in command of the Star Alliance fleet that joined us in the last hours of the battle, expects a formal invitation to be delivered to him as soon as possible. For obvious reasons he declined to accompany myself and my staff to Almashin. I recommend inviting Salvar Luvo for a meeting later tonight. In the meantime Luke Skywalker may lay out the details of this alliance for the Council to examine."

Feeling his cheeks heaten with excitement, Luke shifted nervously in his seat and reddened even more when he looked first right, to where Nuron sat smiling at him, then left, where Father was leaning back in his chair casually, brows cocked in a friendly challenge. But there was actually something else on his mind, when the Syndics' eyes came to rest on him. He rose from his seat and gave them a respectful bow, the way Chi'in had shown him when he had first been invited here weeks ago, then addressed the Grand Admiral. 

"Sir, if I may, what about Ambassador Naas Deron?" They had transmitted the location of the crash-site to the fleet before they had been called off to investigate a potentially dangerous interloper who had turned out to be Roganda Ismaren piloting a coral skipper.

"Of course." Thrawn gave a curt nod. "Ambassador Deron is being recovered as we speak. He will be placed under arrest once he arrives here."

"What!" Luke exclaimed, truly shocked. "Arrested! On what grounds?"

Thrawn's glowing red eyes were impossibly cold as he answered: "Ambassador Deron acted as flight commander during the battle and purposefully deserted his command for unjustified reasons. According to Chiss military law, effective during times of warfare, he will be tried and convicted for treason."

"Unjustified reasons!" It was Nuron who joined Luke in outrage. "You know exactly what happened up there!"

"There will be silence in the Council Chamber," Syndic Bal'maw'narda injected, his calm, soft voice cutting through their protest with icy precision. 

Embarrassed, Luke subsided, but Nuron was still bristling with fury, staring hard at Thrawn. She was a warrior too, and she valued and respected her comrades, Luke knew. This had to seem unnecessarily cruel to her. Risking a glance over at the other military commanders, respectively his father and Lorth Needa, he saw them keeping carefully neutral expressions. And the Noghri seated on the far side of Nuron, introduced as Andarack clan Rim'kai, Chi'in's great-nephew, also kept suspiciously quiet. 

"Please accept our humble apologies, Syndics," Luke said respectfully and bowed again. Nuron threw him a frown but followed his lead a moment later. 

"Accepted. Master Skywalker, we would be interested in hearing the details of the Star Alliance now."

"Commander Al'than'erudo has already briefed you on the conditions that the alliance members have accepted when entering this confederacy," Luke countered. "In essence, the alliance establishes diplomatic and military ties between seven different peoples, three of which have joined in a fleet to assist in Almashin's defense. You know all seven peoples as your enemies, as identified by Grand Admiral in an expedition some thirty years ago. Commander Al'than'erudo suggested that the council may be open to renewed negotiations with these peoples once the war has ended."

"Which was your primary goal when establishing this alliance, is that not so, Master Skywalker," Bal'maw'narda said quite drily. "A daring move on your part, and it puts us in a precarious position. We are indebted to the Star Alliance fleet and Ishare Luvo, who, I might add, has attacked the Chiss on numerous occasions, and is feared throughout our realm as unrelenting aggressor. A fact I assume you are also aware of. You are making fools of us, Master Skywalker. Also intentionally?"

Luke felt the tell-tale tingle of a blush rise again in his cheeks, but forced himself to remain calm this time. Holding his head high he met Bal'maw'narda's expectant gaze. "Commander Al'than'erudo has indeed informed me of that minor detail concerning Ishare Luvo."

"Minor detail!" one of the other councilors exclaimed, but fell silent at a gesture from Bal'maw'narda. 

"You are very courageous, Master Skywalker," he said, "and you obviously realize that your father will not assist you in this interview. You made your choices on Ooonda, and now you have to convince us that they were right and true. Go ahead then."

"Very well." Luke folded his hands in front of his abdomen, letting the Force seep into his awareness gradually to clear his mind of all distractions. "It is my wish and my goal, as Jedi Knight, to create a peaceful community free of unnecessary struggles. What I found on Laa'kuan was such a community, from which the Chiss have been excluded so far. And on Ooonda I realized that this was exactly what I want this galaxy to become. A community. I share that dream with many other, I know, and once upon a time the Rebel Alliance pursued exactly that dream, too. Sadly enough the New Republic was not able to deliver on that dream, partly because there still existed a possibly hostile Imperial remnant, and in part because of internal power struggles. I have not abandoned the New Republic. I merely took my chances where they presented themselves. Tell me, Syndic Bal'maw'narda, is it wrong to dream?"

"No," the old Chiss answered slowly. "And that dream you have is indeed shared by many others, including myself, including your father. I wonder, though, if it also includes Ishare Luvo."

"Why not ask him? Grand Admiral Tharwn already suggested inviting him here. I would advise the same."

Bal'maw'narda nodded gravely. "Good advice, Master Skywalker. Your proposal is accepted. This meeting is adjourned. Thank you."

Luke almost flinched at the stab of outrage he could feel flash through the Grand Admiral's presence, and he could well imagine what was going through Thrawn's head right then. What was wrong? Bal'maw'narda had not been reluctant to follow the Grand Admiral's strategy for as long as Thrawn himself had been away, cruising the Unknown Regions in pursuit of the enemy. But now that he was here on Almashin ... A hand fell lightly on his elbow and he looked up to meet his father's eyes. 

"Come," the older Skywalker said softly, and Luke followed him to the door, where Nuron and Andarack where already waiting. The fleet commanders, including Voss Parck, had left already, perhaps to see to their troops, to write reports or simply to rest. 

Together they made their way toward the guest quarters, and into what seemed to be Father's assigned apartment. It consisted of a large sitting-room, a bed-room, fresher unit and a balcony overlooking the park outside. A glance toward the windows showed Luke that night had fallen fully over Anmedra. 

"I wonder what is keeping Chi'in and the others," Nuron said suddenly into the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the small group. 

Father shrugged and took a seat, quickly joined by the others. "They will let us know when they are ready," he declared, then threw a warm smile at his son. "And now we will talk. I imagine you will want to know what is happening in this little corner of the galaxy."

Luke smiled shyly. "How'd you guess?"

  


Jix had taken a seat on one of the broad window-sills in one of the deserted hallways, and was listening intently to Chi'in's report on the battle, for once at a loss of any comments he might otherwise have injected. The losses they had received here were stunning, and all the more so since the Chiss' throne world had fallen to the enemy after all. Yet the Noghri delivered his report in a cool voice, seemingly unfazed by this disaster. When he had finished at last Mara, who had been leaning against the wall beside Jix silently, straightened again.

"I cannot believe you let Deron run across the battle-field playing Death Star," she accused, sounding shocked for some reason. 

Chi'in turned large black eyes on her, and his nightmarish features suddenly looked very menacing indeed. "You are right, Mara Jade," he replied cautiously, "I might have been able to stop him. But that would have taken time I was unwilling to sacrifice in the midst of a devastating battle. And additionally I knew very well what he would do if left free reign. That was exactly what I speculated on."

She shook her red mane angrily. "I would have expected such a sneaky move of anyone but you, Chi'in. Seems as if you've learned a thing or two from the Yuuzhan Vong." 

Jix inhaled sharply, expecting the usually so cool Noghri to rise to her challenge. But Chi'in said nothing for a while. Neither Mara nor the Corellian dared interrupt his thoughts Finally Chi'in lowered his head, and for a moment his child-like frame seemed very vulnerable indeed. 

"If you believe that Naas Deron's fate leaves me cold you are both mistaken. I have lost two students in this war already, and perhaps I will lose a third, too. It is hard for me to accept that my teachings may not have enabled them to master their duties, that I may be responsible for their deaths. And yet, on a more logical basis, I know very well that Cronn fought well and that he merely succumbed to overwhelming odds. Or that Puket was too exhausted after having flown attacks for hours out there. I know that the Force has limits in all of us. I have exprienced those myself when I was the Yuuzhan Vong's captive." He raised his head again, his lantern eyes huge and forbidding. "And yet I must accept their deaths and look to the future. I still belive that there _will_ be a future for us, and I pray it will be a happy one. As for sneaky moves, Mara, we all use what is available to us, is that not so?"

She nodded in mute agreement. Then Jix decided to change the subject in his usual tactful manner. "Speaking of, Chi'in. We have a request."

"Go ahead then," the Sith Lord replied wearily. 

"All right." Hopping off his perch, the Corellian hooked his thumbs behind his belt and nodded at the Noghri. "This is inofficial, and I'm not sure how much we want to tell the Chiss. Fact is that Sarreti is back in charge and pulling off a scheme of his own to get Yana out of the Yuuzhan Vong's clutches. He proposed for us – that's Mara and myself – to pose as Imperial saboteurs who've made a lucky catch. You. The Vong will be panting to get you back, I guess," he grinned. "Hell, _anyone_ would." Mara giggled at that, but Jix continued. "So, Sarreti would make contact and we'd go in there blind to make the delivery. With what you told us of today's battle we may even manage to escort you as far as whatever worldship they want you on." He shrugged easily. "If they suspect a trap or grow suspicious 'cause of whatever other reason, we'll be done for and you'll be on your own. Or dead."

"A very risky endeavor," Chi'in mused aloud. "How does he propose to secure this gamble?"

"Ysalamiri. They'll get them courtesy of the Empire, and two experts to demonstrate how they work."

"I see." The Noghri averted his eyes briefly, and when he looked back at the couple he was smiling. "I learned just a few hours ago that my grand-nephew was the one who killed Warmaster Marayl Carr." He straightened proudly. "It is a pleasure to know that this honor remained within the family. All the Yuuzhan Vong will know, though, is that a Noghri killed Marayl Carr, and the only one they have met so far is myself. I suppose they will indeed be very eager to have me imprisoned and ultimately killed for supposedly having killed their Warmaster. If Saretti can make the story of your capturing me credible, I believe we have good chances of getting on board that worldship together. And I am probably right in assuming that Sarreti is speculating on Yana being there too."

Jix nodded. "Right. That's what he said."

"But we need a diversion to get out alive again," Mara added.

The Sith Lord snorted dismissively. "I do not doubt First Royal Flight will be happy to provide that diversion."

"The Emperor," Mara hissed between gritted teeth. "I'd completely forgotten about him!"

Jix gave Chi'in a calculating look. "Ever met His Highness? Will he be any good in a fight?"

The Noghri shook his head. "I have never met him and I do not know anything about him that might be of any help. I suggest we enlist Major Kalo'wyn's help in this. He will know how to approach the Syndics. And now," he added wearily, "I could use some rest too."

He sat in a high-backed chair at the window of his assigned quarters, looking out over the inner courtyard of the complex. It was completely dark outside, with Anmedra on emergency power and all outside illumination shut off to make targeting the city more difficult, should another attack come tonight. In the knowledge that his presence would be required in the upcoming meeting with Ishare Luvo, Mith'raw'noruodo had merely shed the uniform jacket, which lay neatly folded on the fresh linens covering the single bed.

But it was not the meeting with an old foe that occupied his thoughts. 

Breathing deeply, he relished the fact that after decades of exile he was back in Chiss territory, back on Almashin. Home. Long years ago he had vowed to prove his point to the other Syndics, that the art of war could be so much more intricate than what the strict codex of the Chiss military allowed, and that with the right attitude warfare could be so much more efficient. He knew that their ancestors had carved an empire out of the Unknown Regions by following exactly that strict code of honor, and he admired them greatly for this achievemnt, that had to have seemed almost impossible back in the founding days of the Chiss Empire. But times had changed. New technologies had emerged, new threats, and the last war had indeed made it clear to the Chiss admiral that a fresh approach was necessary. 

It was a strange home he had returned to, though, himself estranged through his service to the Galactic Empire and his experiences in the last war, and the Unknown Regions adapting to a new, possibe future. Mith'raw'noruodo had no doubts whatsoever that Luke Skywalker had no idea what his actions had sparked, how thorough the change he craved would be. If the alliance he was proposing for them to join would come to be they could indeed look forward to a safer, more prosperous future. And yet the Grand Admiral was uncertain what he thought of that. Would he be content to only defend, to spend his time in endless meetings that would become no more than protocol? Once the threat of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion had been dealt with, could there even _be_ a chance for such a future? 

He smiled to himself when he realized that despite all his skills and knowledge he was probably unable to cope with peace. And he feared greatly that the Chiss, who had lived at the very verge of disaster from the first day on, would be able to adapt. Perhaps that was the reason why the religious community of the Triad Worlds had never approached the Chiss, had instead treated them with hostility. Even Ishare Luvo, a fierce warrior and merciless warlord, had condemned the Chiss for their history time and again, even though the Chiss were by no means an aggressive people. They merely dealt with difficulties in a quiet and very efficient way. 

Another thought occupying his mind was Bal'maw'narda's open hostility. The Syndic was using him for the Chiss' own ends, and yet he still treated the formerly exiled admiral like an outlaw. Grimly curling his right hand into a fist, Mith'raw'noruodo pondered several schemes he might employ to bring the Syndic down for that affront. But then a knock at the door caught his attention, and Mith'raw'noruodo rose wordlessly, pulled on his jacket and walked toward the door briskly to open it. Voss Parck was waiting out there for him. 

"It is time," he said, his informal tone again reminding the Chiss that he had formed strong ties to the Empire, ties that had grown stronger perhaps than those that held him to the Chiss. 

Nodding quietly, Mith'raw'noruodo strode out into the hallway to join him. "Ishare Luvo has already arrived?"

"Yes. They are on their way to the Council Chamber. Everyone is pretty jumpy. I had not realized his reputation is _that_ bad."

"Once you meet him you'll know why," the Grand Admiral told his friend with a smile. "Who else will be attending the meeting?"

"Everyone important who is on Almashin. A grand assembly, then."

"Yes. Where did you put Ambassador Deron?"

Parck's face clouded a bit. "He has been badly injured in the crash. Medical ward of detention at Alaya Base. So far he has been pretty peaceful."

"He will not be any trouble. I rather worry about Master Chi'in."

"Why?" Parck asked, startled.

"Honor. Chi'in could have stopped Deron, undoubtedly. If I insist on keeping Deron incarcerated, Chi'in will probably demand that I let him share his student's fate. And that I cannot do." His lips compressed into a tight line. "Well," he said at last. "We'll see what Lord Skywalker has to say on the matter." 

They reached the Council Chamber last of all, and Mith'raw'noruodo had intended it so. He did not want to give his old nemesis the satisfaction of having made him wait for him to arrive. But when they stepped into the grand hall, Ishare Luvo turned around and smiled at the Grand Admiral contemptuously. His apparent arrogance was intolerable, and yet there was no way to demote a guest of the council. Unfortunately. Joining the row of commanders wordlessly, Mith'raw'noruodo waited for Bal'maw'narda to open the negotiations.

It was a clearly defined assembly that had gathered in the Council Chamber, contrary to the meeting earlier that same evening, Anakin found. To the left the commanders of the Chiss-New Republic Alliance stood in a neat row that followed the gentle curve of the chamber. They had been separated into three groups. Members of the original Chiss navy, among them Major Kalo'wyn, then Thrawn and his own commanders, including Voss Parck and Gilead Palleon, and Lorth Needa with his staff, as representatives of the New Republic. Teer Shikay had apparently remained aboard the Eisenhart, assuming command of the fleet during Thrawn's absence. 

To the right of the chamber, then, Anakin himself, Luke, Nuron, Chi'in and Andarack stood in a loose group, with Jix and Mara keeping in the background. Next to that group a score of Chiss officials had assembled. The middle of the room was, of course, occupied by Ishare Luvo and the other representatives of the Star Alliance's fleet. They were facing the Council of Syndics directly and, Anakin could not help but notice, that layout also put the guests into the direct line of fire for a small squad of Chiss guards looming behind the Syndics. The Dark Lord had noticed the look that had passed between Thrawn and Ishare Luvo with some concern. Those two were old enemies, it seemed, and he fervently hoped that Luke's alliance would hold after all. 

Then Bal'maw'narda rose from his seat, the other councilors following his lead promptly. "The Council welcomes the representatives of the Star Alliance on Almashin," he told the assembly in grave tones, and to Anakin's surprise Ishare Luvo managed a passably respectful bow.

"Peace with you, Syndics. Honor we are in your presence," the Lappa replied.

"We are indebted to you for the aid you brought to Almashin's defenses. The honor is ours."  


Obviously pleased, the Lappa commander smiled graciously, exposing his gills fully. "No debt, Syndic. A truce."

An audible gasp ran through the assembled Chiss. No one had expected that, and Anakin confirmed with a quick glance at his son that Luke had also been ignorant of Ishare Luvo's move. 

"This is – surprising," Bal'maw'narda managed. "But nevertheless very welcome." His gaze hardened. "And yet we cannot offer more than our thanks for now. Not until we have recovered the Emperor, or chosen a successor. This council has no authority to make a truce. Not with anyone, as much as it saddens me to say so."

Ishare Luvo nodded solemnly. "Understand. Help will to recover your emperor. The price for truce is acceptable."

"I – " Totally taken aback by the Lappa's words the Syndic began to stammer. "That is a very generous and noble offer!" An honest smile made his lined face beam with joy. "And the council accepts it gladly!" Sobering again, he took a seat, and immediately a group of servants rushed to provide the visitors with chairs. "Time is running short," he announced, sounding very tired all of a sudden. "And we all know what is at stake. The Council is open to suggestions on how me may succeed in freeing both the Emperor as well as Empress Yana Dar."

Not surprisingly to Anakin it was Chi'in who stepped forward. Bal'maw'narda's face lit up again at seeing the Sith Lord. "I have a suggestion," the Noghri declared, and proceeded to relay Franzis Sarreti's plan, adding his own thoughts to it. His recount was interrupted by Ishare Luvo, who seemed outraged.

"An ally refuse sending aid?" he exclaimed, his body tensing into an aggressive crouch.

"With all respect, Salvar," Anakin inserted smoothly, "but Counselor Sarreti did the right thing. This way we have fresh troops, if needed, and had he sent reinforcements to Almashin we could not now rely on his ties with the Yuuzhan Vong. Ties that will open the door for us to strike at their heart."

The murmurs of agreement that rose from the crowd were cut short by Thrawn's cool voice. "We are still missing one aspect of this scheme," he said. 

"And what would that be?" Anakin asked, unable to keep a challenge out of his tone. He noticed the interest with which Ishare Luvo glanced first at the Chiss, then at the Dark Lord, as if watching some low-g-hockey match.

The Grand Admiral straightened some more. "I had sent Master Chi'in ahead to gather a task force that would infiltrate the Yuuzhan Vong base at Kynda'bey and neutralize the yammosk. Since Master Chi'in will obviously be unavailable for that mission, I would ask you to go in his place, Lord Skywalker."

It was some hours later that same night, and two figures had found some solitude in one of the meeting rooms that were scattered throughout the administrative wing of the grand government complex of Anmedra. Their plans made and approved of, they could only wait now, until all preparations had been finished. Luke and Nuron had retreated for a short rest, and Andarack was off somewhere, having excused himself politely from his great-uncle's presence. It disturbed had Chi'in somewhat to hear about the younger Noghri's allegiances from his old friend and former teacher as they sat together in that lonely meeting room, discussing Sith business. Anakin had just finished his tale, having added his own thoughts to what they had worked out of Roj Kell's scheme together. 

Chi'in heaved a deep sigh. "In the moment of greatest victory our numbers dwindle," he said quietly, the memory of his lost students still paining him. "I wonder if there will be any Sith _left_ to continue this legacy once this struggle has ended."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Chi'in," the Dark Lord admonished him gently, but he, too, sounded very thoughtful. "There is more to being Sith than sorcery. I believe we have all learned that lesson over the past few weeks. Being Sith means being loyal to the Sith and their ideals. It means believing in what the Sith stand for."

"And what is it they stand for?" Chi'in asked bitterly. "Conquest and tyranny? Or deception and manipulation? I do not know anymore what path we should follow," he added wistfully.

"You scare me, old friend. You never were unsure of your path before," Anakin reminded him, his voice having taken on a cautious tone.

"But now I am," the Noghri countered sharply. "What I believed to be the right path has doomed three of my students and already claimed two of them. I do not dare think of what the future might bring, if honor and respect become meaningless."

  
"Not meaningless, not at all. Your path still is true, Chi'in. And I think Kell has shown us the future with his sacrifice."

"What do you mean?"

Anakin heaved a deep sigh and folded his hands atop the table, looking at them as if any answers were being held there. Finally he looked up again to meet Chi'in's gaze. "I have accepted his legacy already," he began, "and assumed the role of guardian, of Cor'dan, to succeed him. My initiation has not yet been fully accomplished, and I fear the moment when I will surrender completely to what I can sense already. It is overwhelming, unlike anything I have ever felt before." His voice dropped into a whisper. "I am afraid of that responsibility, Chi'in. Sorely afraid."

"So _that_ is why you were so reluctant to go to Laa'kuan to confront the yammosk," Chi'in breathed. "That's why you are reacting so hostile toward any mention of that old schemer." The Noghri shook his head gravely. "You are fighting destiny, Anakin. I am not sure whether you can win that battle."

"Fact is that I do not even _want_ to win," Anakin replied heatedly. "When Deron employed the Dark Side to exact vengeance upon those who had killed his lover I could feel his grief call to me. I could feel his soul cry out for being avenged, for being protected from even more pain. That is my calling, Chi'in, and I cannot fight it any longer. I realized that here on Almashin, and I know my destiny will fulfill itself on Laa'kuan. He has trapped me solidly in this, old friend, and that knowledge is the source of my resentment."

Chi'in sat there, stunned by the other's confession. "Then you _do_ have the answers," he said at last. "Then you _know_ what the future will bring."

"It isn't that easy," the Dark Lord replied resignedly. "I have my own dreams, and I suppose I will have to make them compatible with the situation I find myself in now." He gave a bitter laugh. "Whoever would have thought that being Cor'dan would be so complicated, after having watched Kell play at it for three millennia with such apparent ease!"

"He did not have the kind of responsibility you have now," Chi'in offered thoughtfully. "As I understand it, from what you have told me, you will assume the role as guardian for both the Sith as well as the galactic community."

"Where he merely had to deal with the universe?" Anakin finished laconically. "No. I won't let myself be pushed into that corner. I will be content to be Cor'dan and leave politics to my wife, if she still wants the job now!"

Chi'in laughed at that. "Anakin! Now you sound like an old man! You may not be that young any more, but I know you well enough to forsee that your 'contentment' won't last."

"And I admit I am looking forward to that day!"

They talked for long hours that night, and when Chi'in at last retreated to get some sleep, he felt a lot easier than before. There _was_ a future out there. All it needed was someone to make it take on shape.

TBC


	39. Chapter 38 - Leap of Faith

****

Chapter 38 – Leap of Faith

Yana had spent hours in a blind stupor of confusion. She had no idea what had happened to her and her thoughts kept slipping away every time she tried to grasp one and examine it more closely. Now, being ushered through the corridors of another worldship, this one seemingly even grander and larger than the Warmaster's, she felt herself grow strangely timid and awed. How had she ever been able to hate these creatures? They were not evil at all, she could see now, they were mangificent and honorable, and she felt pride in having been chosen to increase their honor with her sacrifice. A pleased smile was plastered on the Empress' lips when her guards entered a semi-dark hold and left again, sealing the door behind them. Yana was still feeling happily ignorant of her situation when a pair of glowing red eyes appeared out of the gloom, studying her closely. 

"Who are you?" a male voice asked, a voice that was clearly used to being answered and obeyed. 

Yana drew herself up haughtily. "I am Empress Yana Dar, supreme ruler of the Galactic Empire," she replied coldly. "And who are you, pray?"

The stranger gave a low chuckle. "I see they have found themselves a particularly fervent servant. May I?" he added politely, but did not wait for her permission before he ran cool palms over her forehead. There was a sharp intake of breath and the hands withdrew again. Yana suddenly felt afraid.

"What?" she asked, panicking. 

"Neural implants," the as of yet nameless stranger explained calmly. 

He had to be a Chiss, Yana thought, and immediately a tiny voice added that there had been something important about a Chiss being the Yuuzhan Vong's captive. Something Marayl Carr had told her, bragging about the Yuuzhan Vong's victory at Csilla. 

"You are the Emperor!" she exclaimed, startled.

"Yes. My name is Ja'han'mandana. At your service, Majesty," he said and Yana imagined him performing a small bow toward her. "Can you overcome the implants' influence?"

Icy shock gushed through her mind at hearing that question. Of course! That was how Alyn Cha had overwhelmed her, by using the implants! "I –" she broke off, and hot wrath suddenly filled her entire being. Once again she wrapped herself in darkness, to protect her mind this time. Clearing her throat, she whispered. "Yes. Thank you for reminding me that I can still fight back."

"Always a pleasure, "Ja'han'mandana answered drily. "Any news you can give me? I have not heard anything of my people since my capture."

Yana felt tears spring to her eyes and lay a hand on his shoulder compassionately. "I am so sorry for you," she breathed. "But good news at Almashin. The fleet held its own and the Yuuzhan Vong had to retreat."

"Excellent," came the sharp reply and he gently shrugged her hand off, a polite yet unmistakable rebuke. 

Embarrassed, Yana lowered her head slightly. "What will be awaiting us here?" she asked.

"Sacrifice. My captors have told me repeatedly that their Supreme Overlord will be overjoyed to witness my death in honor of the gods. I am not certain what they seek to accomplish with such threats," he concluded, apparently amused, and the Empress could almost see him smile. 

"Perhaps they simply wish to diminish your own honor, Your Highness."

"Please do not call me that," he protested gallantly. "Right now I am merely a captive. And diminishing my honor would lessen the sacrifice, as far as I understand these creatures."

"Of course." Yana frowned. "Then why – "

The door slid open again and light poured into the dark room, startling her. For the first time she had the chance to have a good look at the Chiss Emperor. She was astounded to see that he was little older than she, bald-headed and of a same height with her. His expression, she was not surprised to see, was one of calm, unpretentious nobility, that caused a stab of envy to pierce the Empress' heart. His sinewy frame was dressed in a simply cut, yet elegant uniform of a dark purple hue – a battle-uniform, she realized – with only a single star for decoration. His glowing eyes were fixed straight ahead, at the door. Following his gaze grimly, Yana drew herself up to face the Yuuzhan Vong warriors that entered the hold leisurely. 

"Come," one of them snarled in Basic, and only then did Yana fully realized that Ja'han'mandana had not been implanted with neuronic controllers. 

She wondered at that, but at the same time that knowledge excited her. Perhaps he would be able to do something. And at that thought she started violently. She herself could defy them! _She_ could withstand the controllers and throw her entire might against their captors! Her elation must have shown on her face, for Ja'han'mandana regarded her pensively as one of the guards brutally pushed him past the Empress, toward the door. And then she was alone again. Yana dropped to the deck like a sack, all of her strength, her hopes suddenly gone, Tears were welling up in her eyes and she started crying bitterly, helpless against the onslaught of great waves of despair and fear that filled her head mercilessly. There was no way she could win, none at all. She only hoped that Roganda had made it after all. 

Seated in the pilot's chair of the heavily-armored Imperial shuttle they had borrowed from the Star Destroyer Starhammer, Mara glanced over at her co-pilot, who seemed uncharacteristically pensive. They had left Almashin three days ago, and met a team of slicers sent by Sarreti in open space. The slicers had turned their nav log upside down, so that now the shuttle would have originated from Garqui. Sarreti had fabricated a fool-proof story for them that would make Chi'in's capture credible. The Sith had tried to infiltrate Imperial Space, he would claim, but Sarreti had anticipated such an attempt and had been proven right. Knowing how gifted an actor the former Imperial Special Agent was, Mara had no doubts that the Yuuzhan Vong would buy the Counselor's story whole. Even if the Yuuzhan Vong suspected a trap, they could still wait until they had their prey secured, before they revealed that knowledge, and that would mean the trio would still be where they were planning to be two days from now. 

Aboard Supreme Overlord Shimmra's worldship.

Now they were waiting for Sarreti to provide them with their rendezvous point, and the waiting was getting on Mara's nerves. Hence the suspicious looks at Jix, who, to her small relief, seemed equally agitated. In his case though the source of the agitation would be impatience rather than fear. But Mara _did_ feel uneasy, there was no denying it. She remembered Jix telling her that there was no need to pretend of prove anything, but even though she might wish to be able to sink in his embrace and let him comfort her, the presence of the Noghri Sith Lord in the back of the cockpit prevented her from acting on that impulse. For someone who was facing certain death, who had already experienced the cruelty of the Yuuzhan Vong first hand, Chi'in was very calm. He had not spared them a single gruesome detail of his captivity, neither the torture nor the mental assaults conducted by the yammosk. Mara shivered ever so slightly in remembrance. 

Nuron and Luke had confirmed Chi'in's report, and they had also described the maze at Laa'kuan to them, the immense powers that could be channeled through the labyrinth's mirror image of the galaxy. The impending operation thus boasted three mission objectives for them to accomplish. The first objective was to infiltrate the Yuuzhan Vong worldship where Yana Dar and Emperor Ja'han'mandana were being held. That one, obviously, fell to Jix, Chi'in and Mara. And, ultimately, to Franzis Sarreti's diplomatic skills. The second objective was to gain control of the maze at Laa'kuan. Perhaps the most dangerous mission, since controlling those powers seemed very difficult indeed, as Luke Skywalker's disastrous attempt at directing those energies had proven. The Dark Lord had agreed to conducting this effort in the end, only accompanied by Andarack, Chi'in's great-nephew. In the worst case the odds would be two Sith against possibly thousands of Yuuzhan Vong troops. Mara grimaced wrily. They would probably manage nevertheless.

The third objective, then, was to knock out the giant yammosk at Kynda'bey. Since Luke and Nuron had already been into the creature's lair, and since Luke hoped to enlist the help of the semi-sentient predators populating the water world, those two would be leading that mission. They would be assisted by Ishare Luvo and five of his Shock Cruisers, plus a flight of Chiss scout ships that could be camouflaged and would allow the team a hopefully undetected approach on the planet. First Royal Flight would make the forces at Kynda'bey complete. And Thrawn? The Grand Admiral would sit back and watch their progress, until he deemed it necessary to create a major diversion. After all, there were still fifty Yuuzhan Vong ships unaccounted for. It was clear to Mara that they had to move very fast now, since any delay might allow the Yuuzhan Vong to regroup and launch a new assault on Almashin. If that happened while they were still at the Triad Worlds, trying to make the impossible happen, they would not only lose the planet, but would also be cut off from any help. 

"Damn!" she grated out, the tension becoming too much. 

Jix looked up at her concernedly, then gave her a crooked smile. "Hey, baby, we'll get going soon enough," he told her graciously, prompting her to grin in turn.

"Right about now," Chi'in announced just a second before the comm console started flashing with a message on receive. 

Accepting the call hurriedly, Mara recorded the conversation to make sure she did not forget 

anything. "This is Unit Eight," she said, "go ahead."

"Unit Eight, this is Control. Your rendezvous will take place at the following coordinates, transmitting now. The world is called Kynda'bey."

  
Mara swallowed hard. "Any last minute instructions, Control?"

"None," the man replied calmly. "Once the delivery has been made, stand ready for further assignments."

"Sure. Unit Eight out." Sitting back again she frowned. "Kynda'bey! Space will get pretty crowded around that planet pretty soon. That mission is doomed!"

"We have a two hour lead on Luke's team," Chi'in said soothingly from behind her chair. "And Anakin and Andarack will infiltrate Laa'kuan unnoticed, I am sure."

"I damn well hope so," Mara snorted. "If they even get a whiff of any operation taking place on Laa'kuan before we arrive, they will suspect us of _anything_. How are the ysalamiri doing?"

"They seem all right," Chi'in answered lightly. 

They had discussed the possibility of killing the ysalamiri before going in, to give Chi'in a better basis to operate, but he had rejected that idea immediately. The Yuuzhan Vong would realize their intent too soon, then, he had argued. And he could manage even with the ysalamiri present, provided that Luke and his team succeeded in their mission to neutralize the yammosk. And what if they didn't succeed, Jix had asked. Mara remembered that the Sith Lord had merely shrugged, and said nothing. Force, she so loved being surrounded by _optimists_.

The black hole sat there like a dark, festering wound in the center of the triangle formed by the justly named Triad Worlds. With any luck its gravity well would also distort any scanners that may be searching the vicinity. Steering the Morning Glory closer toward Laa'kuan, Anakin Skywalker relied on his co-pilot to make sure there were no nasty surprises. It was tough maneuvering the ship – borrowed from Luke for luck – so close to a black hole, but long years of piloting about any single person craft took some of the difficulty away. 

"The black hole is disrupting our scanners, " Andarack reported unnecessarily, "and I cannot sense much inside the system. A few fleeting traces, nothing more."

"Let's hope that means Yana and the Emperor are still alive," Anakin breathed, his eyes narrowed somewhat in concentration. "Where do you sense them?"

"Kynda'bey," the Noghri told him.

The Dark Lord nodded in approval. "Good. Then we'll use the black hole to cover us on a direct run toward Laa'kuan. There are no Yuuzhan Vong present that I can sense, and I _should_ sense them."

"It never hurts to be cautious," Andarack commented gravely. 

"Very true. But I am certain we won't be experiencing any trouble down there. Chances are that they've had enough of Laa'kuan after the little show Roj Kell pulled off. All right. I'll make this fast, so be prepared for a rough landing."

And with those words he ran the small yacht up to attack speed, barely slowing as they hit the planet's atmosphere. The Morning Glory shivered violently upon that impact, but Anakin deftly used the stabilizers to compensate for the breakneck speed and stress on the ship's super-structure. Like a bird of prey the yacht dived toward Laa'kuan's surface, and Anakin gritted his teeth as he used the trail of agony left behind by a particularly gruesome death to find his way to the sanctuary of the maze. It was strange, he thought, that he could sense Roj Kell's death so acutely, even though the old man's presence had been sheltered within the Force, making identifying his intentions and emotions impossible. Why this raw wound of agony now? Then the gorge came into view, stretching over five miles in a deep scar through the monotonous, dust-haunted plains of Laa'kuan.

In an instant Anakin changed his piloting style, and approached the site of the sanctuary very cautiously, intent on not disturbing anything. The Morning Glory settled on a patch of light pink grass, and once the ship's engines had been powered down, silence settled over the gorge again. Anakin and Andarack exited the yacht together, and both took a moment to grow accustomed to the magic of this place. The high cliff walls shielded the steep valley effectively, and the lush vegation down here stood in stark contrast to what else they had seen of the planet's surface. An enchanting spot in an otherwise harsh environment. Anakin smiled at the allegory this jewel presented. A fitting burial site for Roj Kell.

"Come," he said at last, nodding at his companion. "Let's go and see what we can salvage here."

They entered the maze carefully, following Chi'in's directions toward the core. Nothing seemed to have been changed since his son and his friends had fled this place. Anakin hesitated, his mouth hardening as he looked at the dust-covered body that lay in the midst of the maze's core, just the way Chi'in had described it. Finally, though, he walked closer and dropped down on his haunches beside Kell's remains. Very gently he reached out and put one hand underneath his hips, the other on his shoulder to roll him over. The body complied easily, all too easily, and the Dark Lord inhaled sharply when he realized that rigor mortis had not set in yet, and it should have, after so long. But Kell was dead, there were not two ways about it. Drops of blood had dried in a diagonal line across the ancient Sith's features. Dry blood and gore covered the entire lower half of his torso, spreading out from the horrible wound in his abdomen. For a long moment Anakin was transfixed by the sight, trying to imagine what it would have been like. 

But then he shook the images off again and instead reached out to lay his palm on the old man's forehead. Kell's eyes were closed, and Anakin asked himself whether that was a good sign, that he had not suffered all through the end, but had mercifully lost consciousness at some point. Then he noticed the odd angle at which the head hung limply, and found that the Sith's neck had been smashed. Probably that blow had ended the man's suffering and killed him effectively. Then why did he appear to have died only a few moments ago? Why? 

"My lord," Andarack said quietly as he stepped up to Anakin, and the Dark Lord turned his head to look up at the Noghri. Andarack held a quarterstaff in his hands. "I found this."

"Go look for more traces. There must be more," Anakin ordered, more out of a desire to be left alone than curiosity. 

"Yes, my lord, at once." 

The warrior melted into the labyrinth like a ghost, and Anakin returned his attention to the body before him. "Come on," he whispered softly. "I know you are here." Nothing happened. "All right," he sighed at last, and closed his eyes. If he had to do this alone, then he would do this alone. 

It always seemed easier for him to find his focus with eyes closed, and it was no different this time. But he nearly jumped, when he felt something brush against his mind. Suddenly he could see, even though his eyes weren't open, but what he saw was not anything he had ever dreamed of seeing. The galaxy was spread around him, a net woven of golden strands of power. The celestial bodies shone like suns, but he immediately saw those that were somehow tainted, that shone weaker, not as brightly. 

__

The maze is the focus, the guideline, a very familiar voice told him softly, reverbrating in his mind with unbridled force. _Laa'kuan, Prayer, is the core of this ritual. Kynda'bey, the Focus of Reality, will translate what happens here, and Melyash, Answer, will ignite the transition of power. A matter of give and take, to take where there is plenty and give where there is too little_. Anakin gradually managed to push the voice further away, to diminish its power to a more bearable level. He could almost see Roj Kell smile when the ancient Sith said: _I thought you might come_.

"_You_ are doing this, am I right?" 

__

I am doing nothing, the other replied innocently.

"As if I would believe you," the Dark Lord growled through gritted teeth.

__

Stop fretting, my lord. You have come to undo the damage your son has caused. So let's get to it.

Anakin wanted to protest, wanted to tell the other that no, he was not going to clean up after his son, that he was going to destroy the yammosk at Kynda'bey, but somehow the words wouldn't come. Taking a deep breath, Anakin made himself calm down once more. Cleansing his mind of any thought, he let the galaxy's song speak to him, listening to its tales of dying stars and violated planets, black holes that did not belong. It seemed to take an eternity for him to find this deeper focus, but once he had reached that state of being one with the galaxy the light began rushing at him, smothering him in an ocean of emotions, pictures and sounds. He remembered the gift Roj Kell had given him on Nirauan, but this was a billion times what he had experienced back then. Still, somehow this time he was not overwhelmed by the chaos. Something was shielding his mind against the onslaught. 

He gave the vast presence surrounding him a tentative nudge and found it speeding away, out of control. It took a supreme effort to rein the stray strands of power in again, and very soon Anakin started sweating inside his skin, fumbling his way through a procedure that required the deftest manipulation, the most gentle touch. He only had a general idea of what he was about to do, but the deeper he let himself fall into the web of life, the clearer he could see. At any other time he would have been amazed at the details, but now he regarded the connections and relations like the schematic of a very complicated mechanical construction. And he was good with machines and fixing them. First he had to know how things worked, and only then could he follow the net outward and set the tiniest detail into relation to a world's ecosystem, to the star system and the galaxy itself. A tedious task. 

But he could feel the changes he effected resonate in his own presence, could feel his fluttering nerves ease, his feelings cool down and reach an almost placid state. The further he went, the more he felt at peace, the faster he could work. After a while he no longer felt nervous at all. Instead he found himself responding to the web surrounding him, letting it guide him to some extent, to where the small grains of power he had harvested were needed. There was Nirauan, like a dark, festering wound, where alien organisms were straining to smother the planet's original ecosystem. But the Yuuzhan Vong world shaping had left more victims behind, and Anakin took care of every single one. Time did not matter. He had all the time in the world. With a smile he nudged a small, insignificant world on the Outer Rim back into its original balance, a surprise for a dear friend. Then there was only the black hole left, that his son had so inadvertedly opened in the center of the triangle of Kynda'bey, Laa'kuan and Melyash. It did not belong there at all. 

In the end he simply floated in the midst of what he had accomplished, a perfect balance, a perfect web of life. Everything was the way it should be, and from that basis they could start anew. For a blissful moment he was lost in that perfection, and for that blissful moment his existence ended. Only when he woke again, his eyes flying open in shocked surprise, did he understand that this was exactly what he had been spared. To lose himself in service to that balance. Then he stood trembling in the center of the sanctuary on Laa'kuan once more, feeling his own self crash back into his awareness with brilliant clarity. Finally, when he was himself again, he heaved a deep sigh. It was done.

"Lord Skywalker!" Andarack skidded to a halt beside him, confusion plain on his alien features. "What happened?"

Looking at his companion curiously, the Dark Lord asked: "What did you feel?"

"Nothing in particular," Andarack stammered. "It is just a feeling, that something has changed. Look!" He pointed into the sky excitedly. "The black hole is gone! How – " His huge eyes refocused on Anakin once more. "_You_ did that. Am I right?"

"Who cares?" Clapping the short alien's shoulder amiably, the Dark Lord smiled. "What else did you find?"

"Only this coat," the Noghri replied irritably, holding up a brown bundle. "There are signs of battle, a few corpses. I still do not understand –"

"It does not matter," Anakin explained patiently. "Come. We have an appointment to keep. Prepare our ship for take-off. I will join you in a moment." He gave the body lying at his feet a long look. "There is something I have to finish here first."

Following his gaze, Andarack hesitated for a moment, but then left again. Anakin did not watch him go, instead he was focused on what he could feel around him, filling the maze's core with the distant hum of something elusive. It permeated the air, the rock, everything, and in his mind's eye it was everything, without distinction. He smiled tentatively, cherishing the peace. For a long moment he stood like that, totally immersed in timelessness and understanding. 

"Wow," he said at last, heart-felt. A low chuckle reached his ears and he turned his head to look at the figure seated on a piece of the broken spire. "What is so funny?" he challenged the ancient Sith. 

"Forgive me. I am not laughing at you. Not at all." Rising from his seat, Roj Kell walked toward him slowly, his spectral form trailing strands of golden light. Anakin took a step back when his gaze met that of his counterpart. Freed of all the bonds of civilization he had imposed on his own spirit over the millennia, those pale eyes became so intense that looking into them was unbearable. "I know exactly what it feels like. So, you have succeeded? You have destroyed the Yuuzhan Vong?"

"We have destroyed most of their fleet, yes," Anakin replied in a whisper, still feeling the anguish of that sacrifice. 

"And you believe that takes care of the threat they pose?"

"No, it doesn't. But taking someone's belief away is wrong too, isn't it? You said so yourself."

"Showing them the truth is not wrong, Anakin," Roj Kell answered quietly. "It will take the magic, the myth away, yes, but they have twisted the truth around, have forsaken their old ideals. Just like the Jedi." He hesitated." The Jen'da sect consisted of wise philosophers from all over the galaxy, who sought to unite the people that live here. Yet they used words and reason to justify their views. They did not seek to change others through brute force. And then the Jen'da evolved into something different. They promoted peace, called themselves knights, and that title alone shows the schism that permeated the Jedi philosophy for millennia. A knight protects the people, serves them, yet he chooses to serve them through their rulers. That can, and will be exploited, if possible. The Jedi claimed to be keepers of the peace. Who gave them the right? The intent was valiant, undoubtedly, but they grew to be righteous. They set themselves apart from the people, became self-referential, yet bowed to the government. As a knight would do too. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

Anakin nodded slowly. "You are saying that the justification for their deeds was derived from what they embodied, and that image was created not from need but philosophy. It became a double-edged sword." He closed his eyes briefly, to recapture that feeling of awe-inspiring unity. "We were always told that everything is part of the Force. The logical conclusion has to be that everyone can come to understand the Force, and to respect it. There is no need for an elite order to take the responsibility from the leaders the people choose for themselves. Yet the Jedi could have served as guides, as teachers for those who wished to learn. A religious force more than a protective force. Am I right?"

"Who am I to answer that question?" Kell asked softly, and Anakin gave him a surprised glance.

"If not you, who then?"

"Anakin, I do not understand your rules. I know what they mean, what purpose they serve, but all that remains theory to me. I can only give you an outline of logical reasoning, but that is the schism that defines my own belief. The knowledge I have stands in contrast to the empathy I have for the Force. My knowledge cannot ever be equal to that empathy. I can never be whole, yet I am complete. Fully so." He smiled. "And now more so than ever."

"I understand," the Dark Lord breathed at last, feeling miserable. "A heavy burden that you have given me."

"Not a burden. A beginning." A spectral hand brushed his cheek in a featherlight gesture both of compassion and caring, and Anakin averted his gaze to avoid the ancient Sith's eyes. But the old man's voice was inescapable. "You are not alone in this. You never were," Roj Kell told him quietly. "Now go."

"What will you be doing?" Anakin asked, feeling suspicious. After all, three thousand years of meddling could not just be shed like some old cloak. "More messing with destiny?"

"Destiny?" Kell echoed, brows arched in mock indignation. "I believe in chance, Anakin. That is what defines the chaos that fills everything. What you have to follow to survive. You have powerful allies, and the mind to guide them. Now, please, again, you must go."

Bewildered, the Dark Lord looked up to stare at the ancient Sith's spirit. "Why the hurry?"

"I have shown you the way. That is all I can do for you, Anakin," Kell answered solemnly. "You are not like me, and that means your limits are different. In a sense you have more freedom of movement, but also more responsibility. I pray you have learned enough to handle that. One last thing." He gestured at the body lying at the maze's center. "Never forget that you are mortal. What you embody is life, nothing less. Be true to that."

With those words the specter faded away, drawing back into the labyrinth and leaving only silence. Shaking his head to get rid of the sudden feeling of deprivation that filled his heart, Anakin frowned. But then, almost reverentially, he reached out to the Force again, to find himself the center of a glowing web of gold once more. The center, and yet part of so much more. Delving deeper into that web he was unsure what to look for. Why the hurry, he had asked. Something was going on, something that needed solving. And then he found it. A desperate call, that conveyed much more than need. It told him something about the future, a future he could not ever let come to pass again.

Having dried her tears bravely, Yana felt stubbornly defiant when it was her turn to be brought before the Supreme Overlord Shimmra. Ja'han'mandana had not yet been returned to the hold in hours, but she suspected that she would meet him again in Shimmra's lair on board the worldship. Doubt gushed through her mind when she considered the other possibility, that he had been sacrificed – murdered – already. But then she would have felt his death, wouldn't she? Yana shivered delicately as she rose to follow her captors into the corridor outside. It was a long way, during which her apprehension only grew more, and she found herself losing control over her mind again. Briefly closing her eyes she forced herself to remain calm, using an image of Franzis Sarreti's earnest face and cool grey eyes as a reminder. She hoped he was all right, and she also hoped, much more timidly, that he had somehow, miraculously, found some way to free her after all. 

Her senses heightened indefintely, she became for the first time fully aware of the ship's design. Bones, covered by sheer membranes, held the high ceiling up, and there was a fragrant scent in the air, musky and familiar. The sweet chirping of insects filled her ears, and she found herself growing more tranquil, the closer she came toward the Supreme Overlord's presence. It soothed her, sang to her, an ancient song of kinship and glory. In a far corner of her mind the Empress knew very well that she was somehow being manipulated again, but she had been caught off guard, and her dark shield was out of reach. Finally they entered a majestic chamber, dominated by a dais of writhing polyps on which rested a strange creature shrouded in shadows. Only its eyes were visible, a startling display of all different colors of the galaxy. Suddenly Yana found that she stood alone. Her guards had remained at the doorway, leaving her to walk into Shimmra's revered presence alone.

And she did feel the honor, the elation at being allowed into his presence, at being allowed to bask in his radiance. Her heart felt ridiculously jubilant, and she could think of nothing else than the awe-inspiring creature that gazed upon her graciously. Yana felt her lips part, enthralled by what she was experiencing, and she was about to throw herself to the deck in an overwhelming need to show the magnificent Shimmra how much she worshipped his greatness, when a low moan caught her attention. Suddenly horrified, her blue eyes wide, she slowly turned her head to the left, and flinched. She had taken no notice of the other occupant of the chamber previously, so enchanted had she been, but now, staring straight at him, she could hardly ignore his presence. 

Perversely reminiscent of tears, blood was trailing down Ja'han'mandana's cheeks from empty sockets that had once held a pair of glowing red eyes. Totally shocked, Yana found herself crying for real in sympathy and helpless grief. Raising a hand up to cover her mouth and still the scream rising from the depth of her heart, she took a step toward the Chiss, who stood rooted in place, his limbs secured by some gooey mass, she noticed only now. His uniform was dark with stains of blood, and his light blue skin had turned pale, the hue of an early morning sky. His lips, though, pressed tightly together, were twitching in a strange smile, that prompted Yana to shake her head in quiet disbelief. 

Then a voice rose from the creature on the dais, a mere whisper, laced with power. "And what sacrifice are you willing to make, Empress Yana Dar, for your defiance and pride?"

Taken by a terrible rage, Yana ignored the taunting words and threw a hand out at the Emperor, flaying the jelly covering his arms and legs right off his skin and clothes. The sticky mass impacted against the bulkhead with a thud, and Ja'han'mandana laughed out aloud.

"Oh, well done, Your Highness!" he exclaimed, and Yana was grinning at the strangeness of the whole situation, and managed a perfect curtsy that he, of course, could not see. 

A moment later she found herself down on her knees, gasping for breath as a horrible head-ache seemed to bore right through her brain. Ja'han'mandana had joined her on the deck, moaning softly. 

"Enough!" Shimmra roared. "You _dare_ mock me with your games!"

Raising her head with difficulty, Yana gazed up into those ever-changing eyes. The Supreme Overlord held her gaze easily, and bit by bit the Empress found herself retreating before its intensity, and looked away, gritting her teeth.

"Unworthy infidels," he breathed, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "Your days are numbered. You dared defy the might of the Yuuzhan Vong, dared defy the might of our gods! The two of you shall perish in the knowledge that your peoples' lives are forfeited. And your death will bring glory to our gods and wash away the shame you have caused them with your very existence." 

Yana was hauled upright again. Ja'han'mandana, already standing, held his head high, and somehow she found that his ruined eyes were even more proud and defiant than when they had been whole. 

Emboldened by the Emperor's courage, Yana declared: "The galaxy shall know the blasphemy of the Yuuzhan Vong, Shimmra. And it _will_ know your crimes. I will not have it any other way."

The Supreme Overlord's booming laughter wrapped them in think layers of contempt. "Pitiful creature that you are, Empress Yana Dar, your threats are certainly amusing. My allies report the capture of a Jedi, one who has escaped us before. He will not escape this time, though, and will join you in sacrifice today. Prepare them," he added softly, and then Yana and Ja'han'mandana were being led away again.

"A powerful threat," the Chiss murmured earnestly. "I dearly hope you can back it up with action, Empress."

Shivering, Yana closed her eyes.

  


There was no way they could keep their aproach a secret, not with a fleet of twenty Yuuzhan Vong cruisers surrounding Kynda'bey. Luke felt his breath catch at the sight, but Ishare Luvo did not seem to be fazed at all. The small battle-group of five Shock Cruisers plunged toward the world's vast ocean in a straight line, and, once inside the planet's atmosphere, launched First Royal Flight under Major Kalo'wyn's command. Then the lead ship continued its way, leaving the rest to cover their escape. When the cruiser hit the water surface, Luke winced ever so slightly. There was a jolt, and the ship seemed to be suspended for a moment, before it vanished beneath the giant waves of the ocean.

"We're in," Ishare Luvo announced coolly. "Call allies now. I prepare my troops."

Nodding hurriedly, the young Jedi almost forgot to fit his breathing device between his teeth and and over his nose. He could already hear the rush of salt water flooding the ship to accelerate their descent toward the lower levels of the sea. Wearing a thermo-suit to shield his body against the icy cold, Luke watched the Lappa crew calmly shed their loose-fitting robes and marveled at their sleek, fur-covered bodies that had evolved on a world very similar to this one. One of the crewers motioned at Luke to hold on to the railing that ran around the command pit of the bridge, and a moment later the young Jedi was caught in a powerful maelstream as the sea invaded the Shock Cruiser brutally. He lost his purchase, flailing wildly but ineffectively at the mass of water crashing over his head, before a hand grabbed his arm and dragged him toward what he thought was the ceiling, but knew to be the bottom. He had seen the hatches to the exit tubes' pressure chambers earlier on their voyage. 

Following Nuron, for it was her, he checked for the harpoon-thrower secured on his back and the quiver filled with harpoons hanging from his belt. A brief trip through the exit tunnel followed, then they dived out into the ocean. Luke could not help but turn toward the surface to gaze at the beautiful display of light and silence that was the world of the Mahsenda. Then Nuron appeared in his field of vision and pointed behind him, urging him to go on. With the slow grace of a being unaccustomed to life in the water, Luke suppressed a sudden oppressive feeling. He had been raised on a desert world, for Force's sake! Though he found the magic of the sea fascinating, and had even learned to swim during his years with the Rebel Alliance, he still felt pretty uneasy, so far away from fresh air and real sunlight, in this filtered gloom that permeated the depths. 

Reigning his fear in, he joined the Lappa and Nuron at a giant cliff, that rose from the sea bottom up into the distant sky. Then they began the steep climb, using the rocky ledges as purchase. Ishare Luvo and his warriors, mouths wide open to allow their gills to let them breathe under water, were moving swiftly, their slender shapes darting up the cliff with astounding agility. Luke was consoling himself with reminding himself that he did not need to be so quick, that he was here to direct the Mahsenda, after all. When the Force-sensitive aquatic predators finally began arriving, curious about who was calling to them, Luke was smiling. He watched their giant bodies, almost invisible against the blue of the ocean, glide toward him majestically, then explained what he needed them to do. Two of their own had died in their last attack on the yammosk, and they were reluctant to help again, but Luke was throwing all of his hopes into his plea, and in the end they agreed to join their battle. 

  
Suddenly a few rocks the size of barrels drifted past them on their way down, and Luke looked up in bewilderment, before he realized that First Royal Flight and the remaining four Shock Cruisers had begun the ground assault that was meant to lure the yammosk's guardians to the surface. They needed to hurry now. Kicking off the cliff ledge he had been resting on, Luke started his ascent to the secret passage the Mahsenda had used the last time to gain access to the underground grotto that was the yammosk's lair. He dearly hoped that the opposition they would undoubtedly encounter there could be broken swiftly. But his wish went, sadly, unanswered.

They had not been allowed to land the shuttle aboard the worldship, but instead had had to change transport quite awkwardly. Chi'in – that lucky bastard – had spent the transition in a trance that was meant to look like the effects of a sedative, and Jix really envied him. Those creatures the Yuuzhan Vong used as cofferdam simply were disgusting. Their welcome committee, composed of twenty tough-looking soldiers in heavy armor, had scrutinized both Jix and Mara, as well as the ysalamiri, before they had taken charge of the 'prisoner', carrying him off into the bowels of the ship. Now Jix and Mara found themselves alone amidst enemies. 

__

Nothing new there, Jix thought sourly, but these aliens made him slightly nervous. Chi'in had reminded them over and over again to wait for his signal before they acted, but the Corellain was itching to get into action right then and there. Instead, he was placidly following Mara and a weird-looking Yuuzhan Vong female toward what they had been told where the Shapers' laboratories, if he had understood correctly. He and Mara were carrying a nutrient-cage on their backs each, and the ysalamiri did not seem to be disturbed by their strange surroundings at all. 

It took them ten long minutes to get from the hangar to the laboratories, and Jix was not entirely sure if he would be able to find the way back all by himself. The female guide exchanged some words with another alien, before they were admitted into the Shapers' realm. It was a nightmare. Jix could tell by Mara's stance how disgusted she was, but there was hardly anything he could do to ease her mind, was there? Taking a good look around, he carefully shrugged out of the harness that had secured the nutrient-frame to his back, and held the cage in front of his body helpfully. 

__

Now!

The voice was unmistakably Chi'in's, but it startled the Corellian somewhat to hear it inside his head. Ramming the nutrient cage into the shaper who was just reaching for the frame, Jix pivoted on his heel to deliver a crushing blow to the alien's windpipe. A brief struggle later he and Mara were the only ones left standing. 

"Now what?" Jix asked, frowning.

Mara shrugged nonchalantly. "Chi'in said we were to cause some mayhem and wait for him to join us. So I guess that's what we're gonna do." Hefting her blaster, she pointed at the nutrient frames and nodded. "I'll leave the heavy weaponry to you."

With an exasperated sigh that he did not really mean, Jix began dismantling the cages, leaving the two ysalamiri to slither off the camouflaged metal rods that concealed a few dozen slender harpoons and a crossbow to go with them. "All right," he said at last, straightening again. "I'm as ready as can be."

  
The smile Mara gave him sent a hot wave of affection surging through his body, and he returned it in kind. "Let's play," she said, quoting his favourite phrase.

Together they made their way out into the corridor, searching for prey. 

Luke had dropped into a defensive crouch, his lightsaber held protectively in front of his chest. At his side, Nuron's face was marred by a fierce snarl. They had made it into the grotto at last, but the opposition was even stronger than anticipated. While the Mahsenda relentlessly attacked the yammosk Yuuzhan Vong soldiers were in turn attacking the giant predators under water in an effort to protect the telepath. And on the shore of the underground lake the battle was no less fierce, reminding Luke of the last time they had been down here, to free Chi'in.

"You know," Nuron growled, "I have a feeling this isn't working the way we had it planned."

Both she and Luke were desperately trying to make a difference by using the Force to protect and actively defend their comrades, but there were too many enemies to deal with, and they themselves had to avoid being skewered by enraged Yuuzhan Vong soldiers, too. 

Blocking a slash aimed at his head, Luke deftly moved aside to leave Nuron the room she needed to spear the attacker with her own blade. 

"We are running out of time," she informed him coolly, always the warrior, always the guardian. And expecting him to come up with an alternate solution.

Luke gritted his teeth. "Give me a hand here," he said, pointing at the ledge running around the grotto wall two meters above his head. 

"Don't do anything foolish," she reminded him, sensing what he was going to try, but she still boosted him up, as he jumped high to reach the ledge. 

Landing precariously, Luke studied the array of yellow stones set into the ceiling of the grotto. Just like the maze on Laa'kuan. Unfortunately he was well aware of what disaster his tampering with the maze had sparked, but perhaps this time – When the stones lit up in a bright flash of golden light, Luke almost fell from the ledge in shock. 

"Way to go, Luke!" Nuron hollered, giving him a quick thumbs-up before she resumed hacking at tough Yuuzhan Vong armor.

"But I haven't done anything yet," he whispered, more to himself than in response to her call. 

Trying hard to understand what exactly was going on, he was nearly taken by surprise, when the yammosk reared up, giant head almost touching the ceiling, and a powerful tentacle whipped around to swipe the young Jedi from the ledge. Luke ducked in the last possible moment, and that probably saved his life, when the light shot forth from the stones, connecting one side of the ceiling with the other, catching the yammosk's head in the crossfire. 

The creature's agonized scream was deafening.

Clapping his hands over his ears, Luke dropped from the ledge and landed safely on the rocks below. Nuron's head came around, and her golden eyes stared first at him, then at the yammosk, and then at someone standing at the edge of the pool. Following her gaze, Luke gaped at the very familiar figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

"Father!" he breathed.

"Incredible," Nuron commented, and he knew exactly what she meant.

The air below the grotto's ceiling was aflame with a maze of golden light, and the entire cave was charged with incredible power that raised goosebumps all over Luke's body. The last time he had felt anything like that had been when he had opened a black hole above Laa'kuan by accident. Such power ... But that was not all. The Mahsenda had given up the attack on the yammosk, it seemed, and had vanished in the depth of Kynda'bey's ocean once more. But each single Yuuzhan Vong warrior stood rooted in place, gazing up at the yammosk writhing in the unrelenting grip of the maze's power. Ishare Luvo gave the Dark Lord a curious glance, and Luke saw what was going through the Lappa's mind clearly. 

"No!" he shouted, raising his hand to prevent the Lappa from butchering the spellbound Yuuzhan Vong. 

The word was barely out of his mouth when his mind was flooded with a powerful image of what he recognized as the Massassi Temples of Yavin 4. He could smell the rotting vegetation of the jungle, could feel the heat of noon, could hear alien voices jabbering away in the distance. This was Yavin 4, he knew, as it had been three thousand years ago, at the eve of the Jedi attack on the planet. Before his inner eye the history of the Massassi survivors unfolded, leading him on a breath-taking journey across the galaxy, into what would later be named the Unknown Regions. He witnessed the conquest of the Jen Motha, and experienced the joy and gratitude they had felt when the gods had revealed themselves to them at last. The emotions, the pictures and sounds became his only reality, and he believed what he was seeing with every fiber of his being. This was the truth of what had happened, this was the true history of the Yuuzhan Vong. 

At the same time Luke understood that Father was using the yammosk to transmit these images, that he was using the telepath that was able to reach every one of these aliens in the vicinity, to show them the truth about their heritage. Gradually, shame and confusion began rushing into the melee of images, an echo of what the Yuuzhan Vong were feeling. They had been deceived. They had been betrayed by their leaders. Resentment grew in a hot gale of emotion, the intensity of it making Luke's skin crawl. Right now he did not envy Supreme Overlord Shimmra at all ...

Chi'in could feel the yammosk reach for his mind again, and braced himself against the creature's mental attacks, when he found another presence injecting itself betwen his mind and that of the yammosk. He smiled. They had made it! Jumping up from where his captors had thrown him onto the deck, he immediately turned on his jailers, but found them caught tightly in the grasp of the yammosk's siren song. The Noghri assessed the situation thoughtfully, deciding that he could handle a ship full of paralyzed enemies without having to start a massacre, then turned away to gaze at the two other occupants of the gloomy chamber. Hanging upside down in the Embrace of Pain, Yana Dar was breathing hard, her face ashen as she tried to struggle free, and only managed to increase the pain wracking her body. Her blue eyes were blazing in a dark fire of fury and fear. Chi'in was not certain whether she recognized her situation at all. She was lost in her own mind, he knew, and it would take some effort to guide her back again.

__

Jix, Mara, I need your help, he sent mentally, and prayed the two of them would be with them soon.

Then he stepped toward the prisoners and proceeded to free them. The creature that was the Embrace of Pain reacted to the victim's body movements and hormone level, as Chi'in knew by first-hand experience. The more the victim struggled, the tighter the embrace, the more the victim relaxed, the more intense the pain. Therefore the first thing he did was enter the creature's awareness, grateful for Luke's inadvert use of the maze of Laa'kuan, that had allowed him and his companions to break the invisible Force-shielding that surrounded the Yuuzhan Vong and kept them blank spots in the Force. 

Yana Dar dropped to the deck in a tangled heap of mangled limbs and remained there for a while, trying to recover. The Noghri let her be for the moment, moving on to the second creature, that held the body of a bald-headed Chiss. The Emperor, Chi'in mused, coldly studying the man's ruined eyes and other injuries. Chi'in was gentler with the Chiss when the creature released its victim under the Sith Lord's unrelenting urging, sensing that Yana, fueled by dark emotions, had a more effective emotional shielding than the Emperor. This one needed immediate care. What Yana needed was something else entirely. 

"There you are!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim as he laid out the Chiss' trembling body on the deck. 

Mara was past in two long strides, bending down to help Yana rise. The Empress accepted her aid slowly, as if in a trance, and her blue eyes were solely fixed on Chi'in, he noticed out of the corner of his eye. 

"Jix," he said, ignoring Yana for now. "This is Emperor Ja'han'mandana. I give him in your care, and I want you and Mara to get him out of here, aboard the Eisenhart, if that is at all possible. Then return with the fleet. We will need it."

The Corellian joined his side soundlessly, and when the Sith Lord looked up at him, his face was very earnest, his entire demeanor conveying his utter concentration. "You can rely on me, Chi'in," he said, his voice even, then carefully gathered the Chiss in his arms. "Don't do anything foolish now. I'd be really disappointed otherwise."

Accepting the man's respectful words graciously, Chi'in gave a nod, then patted Mara's arm as she passed him. Both she and Jix were continuously looking back at th Noghri and the Empress, as if unsure of whether those two were still sane. Their concern was endearing, certainly, but on anotherlevel Chi'in found it strangely insulting. Once they had finally left, he turned back to face Yana Dar. Standing tall, her body dressed in ragged shreds of what had once been a stately dress, her blonde curls grimy and dishevelled, she was shaking hard. Chi'in waited patiently for the transition that would come soon now. Very soon. And indeed, as he watched, the Empress seemed to gather her courage again, and calmed somewhat. The fire raging inside her mind, though was still very present. 

"You," she declared, her voice cutting through his body like a knife. "You will help me."

Nodding wordlessly, Chi'in pivoted on his heels to lead the way for her.

They were walking through the corridors of the worldship fast, both taking long, ground-eating strides, and all the while they kept a close watch over the Yuuzhan Vong dotting their way, all of which still seemed enthralled by some invisible force. The eerie silence permeating the ship was oppressive, and it mingled with the smell of decay that filled the warm air, creating a cocktail of depressing intensity. It was made all the more uncomfortable by the way the Yuuzhan Vong they encountered stood so very still, their mutilated, armored forms like frozen tableaus of disbelief and worship. 

Jix was frowning constantly, expecting the spell to break any moment now. At his side, Mara held her blaster in a death-grip, and her emerald eyes were tracking each single immobilized foe they encountered. The Corellian felt as if they had somehow been beamed into a child's story, a sorcerer's fairy tale. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Chi'in must be crazy," he whispered, shaking his head. "I just _know_ he's going to get into trouble." 

"Think so?" Mara challenged. "Jix, Chi'in is perhaps the only one in this madhouse who will _always_ do the reasonable thing."

"May be, may be," he replied absent-mindedly, still frowning. "But, frankly, I'd rather keep an eye on Yana, were I him. Did you see the look in her eyes? She's crazy."

Mara did not answer, and Jix looked over at her curiously, to find her face very pale as she stared into the distance. "I've seen that look before," she confessed. A cold shiver ran down Jix' back unbidden, as he recalled Franzis Sarreti's prediction back on Byss, that Yana was turning into something evil. 

Shaking off those brooding thoughts, the Corellian quickened his pace some more. "No matter," he told her. "I think we should feel extremely lucky if we can get Mister Emperor here back to the Eisenhart safely." His frown was redirected at the slack body cradled in his arms. The Chiss was unconscious, and not as light as one might think, considering he was little more than skin and bones

"Speaking of, how're we gonna do that? I've never flown one of these coral skippers, and I don't trust your piloting skills that much to let you try," Mara added.

  
"Damn!" the Corellian exclaimed angrily. "I hadn't thought about that!"

She laughed. "C'm on, Jix, you know you're not the thinking type. That's me, remember?"

"Sure, so what do you propose?" he asked lightly, but she wasn't listening. She had stopped abruptly, apparently straining to listen to something only she could hear. It was a rare reminder of her own Force-sensitivity, and right then and there it made Jix' skin crawl. "What's the matter?"

"It's pretty hard to ignore what he's transmitting," Mara answered through gritted teeth, "even though he's restricting it to the Yuuzhan Vong only." She gave a sudden start, her emerald eyes opening wide in surprise. With a shake of her head she seemed to collect herself again, then grinned hard. "Transportation problem solved, darling," she announced. "His lordship has sent someone over to fetch us. Let's go!"

Both breaking into a run, Jix felt slightly apprehensive, wondering what Mara had meant. They pounded down another corridor, this one widening into a larger one, and to Jix' great relief they had already reached the hangar. Outside a familiar ship was hovering, apparently in preparation of landing aboard the worldship. It was the Morning Glory, Luke Skywalker's small yacht. 

"It's Andarack!" Mara explained, then turned toward Jix, fussing over the Chiss he still held in his arms. "Set him down," she ordered, and Jix did as told. Carefully placing the Emperor's body on the deck, he still kept an eye on the landing yacht. 

The hatch of the ship popped open, and a short figure darted out, waving at them. "Hurry!" Andarack called out, then stopped next to them, looking around in bewilderment. "Where is Chi'in clan Rim'kai?"

"Finishing some business," Jix grated out. "He wants us to get His Royalness over to the Eisenhart."  
  
The young Noghri warrior nodded quickly. "I have already alerted them. They will be meeting us halfway."

  
"Good. We should be on our way already." The Corellian nodded toward the Chiss. "He's not doing too well, I think."

Dropping down on his haunches next to the Emperor, Andarack ran clawed hands deftly over the other's body. "My great-uncle has put him into a healing trance," he explained. "He will recover in time." He looked up to meet Jix' eyes. "But we should hurry nevertheless."

  
"My word exactly," Jix announced, then picked up Ja'han'mandana once again. "Let's go, guys."

Empress Yana Dar strode along the corridors wrapped in silence. She paid no heed to her nameless guide, but instead soaked up every tiny snippet of the sea of images that filled her with a bloody tale of glorious conquest and dark religion. The Yuuzhan Vong had long forgotten their masters, who had turned into gods in their memories, she realized, and in their place the caste leaders had come, stealing the lives of their people away for the sake of a hollow belief that had been perverted over the centuries. The devotion that permeated the entire culture of the Yuuzhan Vong became no more than pretense, the higher one stood in authority. Power and greed dominated the upper levels of the Yuuzhan vong hierarchy, and in that they had copied their masters' ideals perfectly. 

She remembered her own assessment of the lower ranks, at the beginning of her captivity. The Shamed Ones, enslaved and exploited through a dubious system of rules and regulations that had turned the Yuuzhan Vong into artificial creatures, that worshipped artifice in the name of purity.

But now they were learning the devastating truth of their origins, learning of the deception that had deprived them of life and liberty for centuries, that had played on their fervent belief for the sake of power and sick pleasure. Yana felt that she understood exactly how they would feel once the yammosk released them again. She had felt much the same, when she had learned that her father had been using her for his own ends all along, when she had thought she had managed to carve out a life of her own. Back then Abla's love had rescued her from succumbing to dark rage, and later Franzis Sarreti had filled her with a new purpose. 

She realized that someone, someone very strong and very brave, was responsible for this revelation, was controlling the yammosk to grind the Yuuzhan Vong's dreams and hopes for their fiture into tiny bits of betrayal and uncertainty. There was only one person that she knew was capable of such a cruel, yet so compassionate act, who could bear the burden of devastating an entire race for the sake of rebirth. But that one man was dead. Yana felt tears in her eyes when she replayed those thoughts in her head, and found that she did not hate her brother's killer any longer. Along with that understanding her defenses crumbled, falling away one by one, layer after layer, to expose her very core to her own scrutiny. She was no coward, she was no tyrant, she was no murderer, and she was no savior. What she found within herself was a strength that she had thought she had lost, and a determination that had brought her this far. Nothing would prevent her now from taking the next step. 

She gave her guide a grateful smile, when he stopped at the threshold to the Supreme Overlord's lair to let her go ahead. And as she went past him she realized something else. Startled, she looked back sharply to frown at the short alien, whose nightmarish face seemed almost regal. Way back, on Byss, she had thought to have understood her father's motivation of employing the Dark Lord in his service. She had believed that the very presence of the intimidating warlord would serve as focus for resentment and fear, an endless well of darkness on which to feed, a symbol of power that only emphasized the supreme ruler's own might, since it was he who controlled this fearsome warrior, he alone. But thinking back on how she had come to that conclusion, and comparing it to her current situation, Yana found that she had been sorely mistaken. 

The Dark Lords of the Sith were guardians and guides, a role that had been perverted into something else entirely, when her father had resurrected that title and the responsibilities it had originally entailed. But now, gazing into the alien's dark, lantern eyes, Yana Dar knew that she was looking at the future, reborn of the past. He had rescued her, had understood her need, had protected her and guided her here, yet now he was standing back, leaving her the honor of the kill. It was an unwise ruler who dismissed his closest aide's counsel, and it was a very unwise counselor, who acted without his ruler's consent, no matter how much work he might have put into preparing a certain act. And the only way for the ruler to repay his counselor for his efforts was trust and respect. 

Supreme Overlord Shimmra had failed to inspire either trust or respect in his lieutenants. Deferring to him, they still jockeyed among themselves for greater wealth, status and power, all in the name of false gods, and he allowed it. In that he had betrayed the mass of Yuuzhan Vong, the Shamed Ones, the simple warriors, shapers and priests, who took everything their leaders said and did for truth, who endured a life in slavery to please the gods that had been sacrificed by their supposed guardians for the sake of their own betterment. It was not revenge, that filled the Empress as she turned back toward the chamber to face the creature that was still perched on its dais, it was righteous anger. With a gesture of her hand, she pierced the illusion of shadows and power that shrouded Shimmra's true form. 

"I warned you," she hissed, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "Your creator paid the price for tyranny, as you will pay," she continued. "Did you really believe you could escape where even your master perished? The arrogance of that assumption! _Your days are numbered_, " the Empress concluded, her face a mask of ancient wrath. 

And then the yammosk's song ended.

For a heart-beat the Force was silent, as if holding its breath. Then the silence was rapidly filling with cries of outrage, of denial, of fury and blind sorrow. Yana stood like a rock, letting the emotions wash against the shores of her own mind, that was the eye of the storm, the calm center of chaos. Dispassionately, she felt her heart grow cold in the face of so much suffering. But that pain was necessary, to shed the bonds of darkness that had held the Yuuzhan Vong captive for centuries. Standing tall, Empress Yana Dar watched the Supreme Overlord Shimmra being torn to shreds by the hands of his subordinates. 

It was over. 

"They are docking, sir," Teer Shikay announced coolly, and Gilead Palleon gave the commander a weary nod. He was still busy looking over the reports sent by the scouts prowling space around Kynda'bey. There were twenty capital Yuuzhan Vong cruisers orbiting that world, and the Grand Admiral had thrown one look at the numbers and said: "The remaining thirty ships will undoubtedly have returned to Csilla." Which mean that they would have two separate fleets to deal with again, should Lord Skywalker fail in his mission at Laa'kuan. Not good. Captain Palleon looked up when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. 

Thrawn had risen from the command chair he usually occupied whenever there was an upcoming battle, but now he was walking straight past Palleon and Shikay, to leave the bridge. Cocking bushy eyebrows, Gilead Palleon shrugged. They had received word an hour ago, that the Morning Glory had taken course for the Eisenhart's position in the outer system of Kynda'bey. What had surprised him, though, was the – 

"Captain, are you coming?"

His train of thought derailed prematurely, Palleon glanced up, bewildered, to see Thrawn standing at the staircase, waiting. 

"Apologies, sir," the captain muttered. "I was not quite listening."

"Now that you _are_ listening, perhaps you would be so good and join me, Captain," the Grand Admiral replied drily. "We will meet them in the medical ward," he added for Palleon's benefit, once the elderly officer had joined him. "You say they report Yana Dar on board the worldship?"

"Yes, sir."

  
"With Master Chi'in."

  
"Yes. It appears so."

Thrawn did not question further. He seemed lost in thought as they entered a turbolift that would take them to the infirmary and medical level of the star destroyer. He was still keeping very quiet as they followed a medic into a closed off area that was bustling with doctors, medical droids and Chiss soldiers. Palleon recognized Major Kalo'wyn, the commander of First Royal Flight, hovering anxiously next to a door that undoubtedly led into one of the wards.

The Grand Admiral stopped short upon seeing the major, then stepped in front of the other Chiss, hands crossed behind his back. He simply stood there, his disconcertingly steady gaze holding Kalo'wyn's all the while. 

Finally the major asked: "Sir, have I offended you?"

"I recall you were assigned to covering the ground assault team on Kynda'bey," Thrawn answered calmly. "Yet now I find you here, aboard the Eisenhart, and no news of Master Skywalker yet."

"Sir, when we heard that His Revered Highness was aboard the Morning Glory we had to abandon that assignment. We are First Royal Flight, after all, and they needed an escort."  


"That may be an excuse, Major, but no reason to abandon the assignment," Thrawn told him icily. His frosty tone made even Palleon flinch. 

"Enough, Admiral," a weary voice called from within the ward. "Come," it added, sounding tired. 

With a last, withering glare directed at Kalo'wyn, the Grand Admiral strolled into the chamber, followed by a hesitant captain. A group of medics was clustered around the single bed, and Palleon noticed Wrenga Jixton lounging against the wall just inside the room, with Mara Jade occupying one of the chairs. He gave both a nod of acknowledgement, but he was really anxious to see the emperor. As if reading his thoughts, the medics stepped aside, allowing the newcomers to throw a first look at the patient. 

Emperor Ja'han'mandana looked exactly the way he had sounded. He was sitting upright in the bed, his back propped up by a stack of cushions, and he was gazing straight at the door with empty eyes. Literally empty. Bandages covered his arms and torso, more injuries, Palleon guessed. But his eyes kept returning to those empty sockets. He shuddered ever so slightly. 

"Is Sergeant Jixton still here?" Ja'han'mandana asked calmly. 

"Yes, Your Majesty," Thrawn supplied.

"Ah. And Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo." The Emperor said something in his native tongue, and Thrawn paled visibly. Oblivious to the Grand Amdiral's reaction, the Emperor continued: "Sergeant, would you and your charming companion please wait outside? I would appreciate some privacy."

"Sure thing," the Corellian mumbled, and Palleon patiently waited for a sign from Thrawn. The Grand Admiral turned his head ever so slightly, then nodded at his second, who left, feeling strangely relieved. A moment later the medics had joined the small group on the corridor, and the door closed behind them. 

TBC

Author's note:

Thank you for dilligently reviewing this story, Su a.k.a Anonymous!!! I hope you enjoy the rest as well!


	40. Chapter 39 - The Pains of Farewell

****

Chapter 39 – The Pains of Farewell

"And now, Syndic, you will tell me something about Empress Yana Dar," Ja'han'mandana began, and Mith'raw'noruodo beat down hard on the small flame of defiance that began to build in his heart. 

But his answer still bore testimony to his resentment when he said: "I have not yet been honored with meeting her in person."

The Emperor gave an encouraging nod, and how _that_ calm helfulness rankled! He _knew_ that Mith'raw'noruodo was defying him, and he still kept infuriatingly calm. "Yet you know much about her. I would be very disappointed if you did not."

"Your Majesty, I am but a humble warrior. You may be asking too much."

Ja'han'mandana gave a low snort. "You were never humble, Syndic. Ambitious, head-strong, cunning, yes. But I find that your so-called 'exile' has failed to teach you humility. The Emperor, I always thought, was far too proud for his own good. It is not surprising that you have learned nothing from your years of service to him."

"Are you calling me a traitor?" Mith'raw'noruodo asked thickly, but the silent expression that appeared on the Emperor's features made his blood dance wildly in his veins with sudden fear. 

After a long silence Ja'han'mandana spoke again. "You must not believe that I share Bal'maw'narda's point of view concerning your deeds, Syndic." He paused briefly. "I must condemn them, though, and I regret that you chose to betray us instead of learning from your mistakes."  


"So you _do_ think – "

"Do not assume too much, Syndic," the Emperor warned him, his voice cutting. "Syndic Bal'maw'narda would as soon forget you even existed, though he would happily use your exploits for our ends." Mith'raw'noruodo felt his cheeks heaten at the accurate account of his own feeling on that matter. "But it is my responsibility to think beyond such prejudices, to find a solution that will benefit our own people. The skills you earned in the Empire's service _are_ such a benefit. So, what of Yana Dar? She is the late Emperor's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Has she inherited his – talents?"

"A few. But she has had the best mentors to form her skills, I hear."

"Excellent." Ja'han'mandana fell silent again, and Mith'raw'noruodo waited patiently for him to continue. "Why did she remain behind do you think?"

"Revenge, probably," the Grand Admiral replied sourly. He did not want to talk about Yana Dar now, he wanted to bring their discussion about his supposed betrayal to an end. 

The Emperor shook his head slowly. "No, I do not think so. There was someone with her, the one who freed us. Chi'in clan Rim'kai is his name, I believe."

  
"He is a Sith, and he has served the base at Nirauan on numerous occasions faithfully."

"Ah," Ja'han'mandana said at length. "A Sith. No, Syndic, I fear your grasp on politics is not as practised as your grasp on tactics and warfare."

It was a blow to his pride to be told such a thing by someone ten years his junior, and so he asked very coldly: "Really? What makes you think so?"

"Pride, my friend. Pride again. You feel dejected? How do you think _she_ is feeling? I have talked to her. She has been implanted with neural controllers. Whatever held those Yuuzhan Vong back from hindering us from leaving, it must have affected her too."  


For someone who had supposedly been in a healing trance, Ja'han'mandana had a surprisingly accurate recollection of their flight. Or, more likely, he just was a quick thinker. Mith'raw'noruodo frowned. "What is it you are getting at, Your Majesty?"

  
"An attempt at humility? I applaud your efforts, Syndic, but I would prefer you to remain the way you are. No, I do not think she will want revenge. If she is only half as shrewd as her father, she will make use of her knowledge of the enemy. Sergeant Jixton told me what your allies were planning to do on Laa'kuan and Kynda'bey. But I have a feeling that your allies' intentions are somewhat different from what you had planned."

"What is it I had planned?"

Ja'han'mandana leaned forward, his face taking on an intent expression, that was again marred by his missing eyes. "To destroy these creatures," he whispered. "You may be cunning, Mith'raw'noruodo, but you are always true to your ideals. You would not have given them a chance to perhaps strike back at you. You would have annihilated them." He leaned back again with a sigh. "But Yana Dar is a politician, I believe, and she will take another path on her way to glory. A Sith, you say? I fear I know exactly what she is planning."

Anakin Skywalker felt burned out, totally exhausted, both physically and mentally. Controlling the yammosk had required all of his innate power to channel the maze at Kynda'bey, and that, on top of his immense efforts back at Laa'kuan, had drained him badly. Now he was seated on one of the smaller boulders that dotted the shore of the underground lake, in which the yammosk was slumbering peacefully, probably feeling as tired as Anakin himself. All around warriors sat squatting on their haunches in a comfortable silence, but now and then one would steal a glance at the tall warlord, as if wondering how they might please him best. And there were not only Yuuzhan Vong among his new-found admirers, even Ishare Luvo seemed to be all beaming helpfulness, and the Lappa was keeping close to Luke, proudly displaying the fact that the Lappa had fought under the command of the Cor'dan's son. 

__

Cor'dan.

Anakin gave a soft groan, and immediately a wave of concern rolled toward him. He thwarted it with practised ease. He had no use of such distractions now. So, he had finally come to the end of his journey, that he had begun on Nirauan. He had surrendered to destiny, and taken a leap of faith into an abyss of responsibility and future hardship. Roj Kell had warned him of that, but a few hours ago Anakin had seen for himself what _everything_ meant, seen through the eyes of the Cor'dan. It was a reward no one would ever want to miss, and even thinking of that unique feeling of elation and unity made his heart sing. And he wanted to share that happiness. Rising abruptly from his seat, Anakin ignored the rattle of armor as the assembly of warriors followed his lead. He turned his head to look thoughtfully down at Luke, who stood calm and composed at his father's side, a true Jedi. The last one left. 

"It is time," Anakin announced, and gave Nuron a nod, as one professional to the other. 

She smiled, then hugged Luke tightly to herself. It was something Anakin had noticed many times before, that it was always her who showed her affection in front of others, who would embrace her lover and embarass him just as frequently. On cue, Luke blushed a fiery red. Those two were meant for one another. Shaking off those thoughts, Anakin started walking toward the rock tunnel that would lead back up to the surface. The battle had died down hours ago, and transport would be waiting for them. Ishare Luvo and his men would return to their own ship, submerged in Kynda'bey's ocean at the foot of the cliffs, and return to their fleet. The remaining Yuuzhan Vong would stay here, waiting for further instructions concerning the yammosk. 

Time to leave.

It was almost twelve hours later that he found himself aboard a Yuuzhan Vong worldship for the very first time. The ship's name was Shara Orl, and, if he had understood correctly, it was five hundred years old, one of the very first of these vessels ever grown. He had slept for six hours in a borrowed cabin aboard the Eisenhart and paid a long call to Naboo. Now he had joined the emissary of the Chiss Empire – Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo – and Ishare Luvo on this trip to the Yuuzhan Vong fleet's flagship. 

They had been received by a tall Yuuzhan Vong priest named Elu Cha, who had been accompanied by a strangely nervous female priest. Anakin learned only later that it had been Alyn Cha, his daughter. The small group made its way through the bowels of the ancient ship slowly, leaving the Yuuzhan Vong crew time to stare and marvel at the enemies that had turned into allies in the matter of hours. It certainly approached a miracle, how fast things had changed. And Anakin knew very well that he was not the only one responsible for this.

They entered a short, broad corridor, filled with a distinct scent that Anakin placed immediately as imitation of Yavin 4's jungle aroma. He smiled at that. So the Massassi had not been entirely forgotten. Even the chirping of several large beetles, that were buzzing underneath the high ceiling, was reminiscent of the chatter of woolamanders and the song of that lush world's many colorful avians. It all spoke of a home long left behind, but always remembered. Perhaps, one day, the Yuuzhan Vong could even return to their ancestors' homeworld. The corridor ended at the threshold to a giant chamber, illuminated with soft, orange light that spilled from the button-ends of hundreds of polyps that covered the walls almost entirely in an intricate pattern of orange against the dark brown bulkhead.

Anakin was the first to follow Elu Cha and his daughter across that threshold, with Mith'raw'noruodo and Ishare Luvo, peacefully united in a common goal for once, right behind. The entire chamber was humming with anticipation, and was alive with fervent hopes and desperate dreams. He _had_ broken the Yuuzhan Vong, taken the magic away from their lives, to allow someone else to put both life and faith back into their hearts. By the look of it, Empress Yana Dar had managed the first peaceful conquest in history. She was seated in a high-backed chair, dressed in a flowing black robe that clung to her like a second skin when she moved, as she did now, rising from her throne to welcome the three warlords. Her blonde curls stood out from her head untamed, giving her otherwise regal appearance a wild touch that contrasted harshly with the look in her eyes. 

Blue saphires filled with a quiet, reassuring fire were gazing calmly at them, set into a delicate face as pale as porcellaine. The Empress appeared cool, otherworldly, a goddess of ancient times, and Anakin found himself approving of her approach to this new beginning. He had always believed in her as a ruler, in her wisdom, her insight. Now he was being proven right with his trust in her, despite his own harsh and painful experiences with another Sith ruler, that he had made while serving her father. But Yana Dar was more than her father's daughter. When she took a gliding step forward, her entire demeanor was that of a true leader. 

Then Elu Cha's voice rang out from the depths of silence. "Behold the Empress."

"Welcome," Yana said graciously, then addressed Mith'raw'noruodo directly. "Syndic, I believe I will need you to set up a meeting with your Emperor, His Revered Highness Ja'han'mandana. There is a proposal I would like to present to him."

Anakin watched the Chiss take a step forward, features unruffled, glowing eyes calm. "With all respect, Honored Empress, Emperor Ja'han'mandana has assigned _me_ to lead the negotiations concerning withdrawal of the Yuuzhan Vong forces from Csilla, and other occupied worlds inside Chiss controlled territory. Until he is recovered," he added thoughtfully, but his tone made it clear that Yana would have to wait for a long time before that would happen. 

  
The Empress nodded, then raised a hand to tap her lower lip playfully. "That is funny," she replied, amused, and a mean smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I _do_ believe that I have the advantage in these negotiations, Syndic."

  
"Excuse me, Your Highness?" Mith'raw'noruodo felt his blood chill at the implications of her not so subtle threat.

"You have understood correctly, Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo," Yana told him petulantly. "You will have to meet me more than halfway, if you want to get _anything_ out of this deal."

Mouth hanging open in disbelief, Mith'raw'noruodo stood speechless. "Tell me what you want," he grated out at last, his usually so calm voice laced with cold fury.

She spread her arms expansively. "Oh, you see, we will have to expand to give all these people a new home, and the only available territory that might yield _some_ acceptable worlds are the Unknown Regions." Her smile became positively inviting. 

The Grand Admiral, acutely aware of both Ishare Luvo and Skywalker watching intently for his reaction, kept his expression very blank. Straightening sharply, he gave a curt nod. So, she was prepared to play games with him, was she. Well, he had an ace up his sleeve that

she could hardly ignore. "Esteemed Empress, I may have misjudged your situation."

"_Yours_, you mean," she corrected him blandly.

"No, not at all. You see," he continued, shrugging nonchalantly, "just an hour ago the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart received a priority report from Coruscant. Apparently the New Republic Senate under President Leia Organa has voted in favor of an official allegiance with the Chiss Empire. The vote was close to unanimous, I might add. So," he explained at length, "I suppose I will deliver your proposal to His Esteemed Majesty Ja'han'mandana and I will bring back his answer in due time. Until then, Your Highness, I fear these negotiations have to be suspended."

  
Yana Dar had gone very pale, and her blue eyes were blazing dangerously, telling him that she had indeed not expected this little twist to blunt her unfair move. She took a deep breath, her hands clenched at her sides. "Very good, Syndic. You realize, that you are endangering your own people with this decision, don't you."

"Of course. Just as you realize your own position. If you dare take advantage of this situation, you will have to confront both the Chiss and the New Republic. You would not want that."

"Don't think me a coward, Syndic," she hissed. "I have more resources to call upon that this fleet."

"Resources, yes, but I am not at all sure whether Counselor Sarreti would approve of your course of action, if you entered a costly war now of all times. Besides, such a move might destroy everything you have achieved so far. Personally, I would not recommend it," he added drily.

"Watch your tongue," she snapped. "I will not have this game continue any longer. Speak clearly, if you will!"

"Three choices, Your Majesty. Either you wait for Ja'han'mandana's answer – peacefully – or else you continue your new subjects' plans of conquest. What will happen then I do not need to repeat again. The third option, of course, would be to give up this foolish demand straight away."  
  
"Which is impossible," Yana replied, resigned. "Very well. I will find a temporary solution, certainly. But it will _not_ become permanent, do you hear me! So don't you dare leave me hanging here!"

He sketched a small bow to hide his smile. "As you wish, Your Majesty." Turning aound, he strode past a stunned-looking Ishare Luvo and a quietly grinning Dark Lord. Just before he was out of earshot he heard Skywalker say: "Well done, Your Highness. I can certainly forsee that these negotiations will be anything but boring."

Leia kicked off her shoes leisurely and cuddled up to Han, who was seated on the couch of their apartment's living-room. He had actually moved in with her, because her quarters were much larger than his anyway, and for the past few days their life together had gone remarkably well. Admittedly she had not had much time to enjoy that time they had, with her duties as pro-term President of State weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

The hand that had been stroking her back tenderly was halted all of a sudden.

"Urgh. Your shoulders're hard as a plank, Highnessness. Need a massage?" Han added with a sly wink. Leia giggled, then shook her head. 

"I'm afraid I don't have the leisure to relax just yet. We have scheduled a meeting with Father and Luke for twenty hours."

"That makes half an hour then."

  
"What? But it's only eighteen hours!" the Princess protested indignantly.

"Yeah, sure, but knowing how much time you take getting dressed up – Not that I don't like it when you sparkle like that," he added hurriedly seeing the dangerous gleam in her eyes. 

"Han Solo, you obviously will have to learn some manners before you can convince Father to let you have my hand in marriage."

He gave a cocky shrug. "You think I need his permission? _Personally_, I believe he'll feel very lucky once you're out of his hair. Figuratively speaking."

"Oh, you! Very funny, smart-mouth!" She gave him a playful slap on his shoulder, then sat up, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Mother will _definitely_ have to teach me how to break in a new husband," she declared. 

"Oh, you'll see I'm quite easy to handle. I even do the cooking," he reasoned, gesturing elegantly at the dishes spread on the dinner table. It had been delicious. Leia had to admit. He really had a knack for spicy Corellian dishes. 

"I don't like it that she's all alone on Naboo now," the princess complained and leaned her head against Han's shoulder.

"With Karrde," he added.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes glittering. 

He gave her a crooked smile. "Forget I said anything, hon'. That was just nonsense."

"I dearly hope so, nerf-herder." Leaning forward, she took a glass of sweet purple wine from the couch table and sipped at it leisurely. "General Page said what he's heard so far from Almashin is good news. But I could feel that he was holding something back," she murmured, suddenly feeling moody. "I wonder what that was?"

"I'm sure Anakin is going to tell you, when you ask him."

She sighed. "I guess so. I wish I didn't have to wait til twenty hours."

Watching his father pace the length of his cabin impatiently, Luke felt like watching a caged railltir tiger. Dressed in a simple black uniform the Dark Lord was obviously anxious about something. The two of them had retreated aboard the Eisenhart to recuperate and discuss what exactly had happened, and what these events would entail for the future of the galaxy. But so far Father had been very silent, preoccupied with whatever had happened to him on Laa'kuan, Luke thought. 

The young Jedi and his Zabrak companion had accompanied the Dark Lord to the Eisenhart, before the older Skywalker had been called to attend a meeting with Empress Yana Dar aboard the giant Yuuzhan Vong worldship orbiting Kynda'bey along with numerous smaller vessels. Luke had been pretty excited about that, sensing that a fundamental change was about to take place. All he knew now, after Father's return, though, was that a cease-fire had been agreed on, that Yana Dar was in charge of the Yuuzhan Vong, and that the negotiations were continuing. 

There was so much he had missed, trapped out here in the Unknown Regions for almost three months since his initial departure from Coruscant. Father had told him most of just what that had been. First Leia had been kidnapped by Roganda Ismaren and Yana Dar – Roganda Ismaren, who was a child of the Jedi, had been the Emperor's concubine and born him a son! – and he had even thought his sister dead for a while. The memory alone made him shiver. And then the Empire and the New Republic had been drawn to the very verge of another war, thanks to Grand Admiral Tious Markhan's ambitions and Franzis Sarreti's clever manipulations to ensnare Yana Dar as her father's heir. 

Luke still couldn't believe that Palpatine had a daughter, not to mention a son, Irek Ismaren, a weird experiment using genetic material both from Palpatine himself and his old mentor, Father had explained. The young Jedi remembered Roj Kell's face, when he had told him that he had killed his own son, because his existence had offended him. His own son, Irek Ismaren, whom he had thought a perversion of himself. Luke shuddered. So cold. It had been Kell, who had called the Yuuzhan Vong back into their galaxy, for what reasons Luke was not entirely sure he could understand. 

"So, this Seeker," he said at last, "Jix thinks it could be the key to the future."

"I am not at all sure I want the future to depend on a computer-program," Father countered. "It will be a tool, if even that, no more. I do not think we should let out future be dictated by the past." For some reason his vocie sounded pained.

Luke sat forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Father, what is bothering you? That you have been goaded all the way, that you weren't allowed to make your own choices?"

The older man stopped his pacing, turning cool blue eyes on his son. "No, I am used to that. Being chosen is all about following destiny." His lips twitched in a strange, sad smile. "But I have a feeling that I am missing out on something. Everyone seems to have a future to look forward to, a past to claim. I feel I do have a future, with my children, with your Mother above everyone else, but I find that there is something amiss about the past." Luke was shocked to see tears in his father's eyes. "You and your sister reclaimed your past when you found your parents again, and accepted them, despite their mistakes, their failures," Anakin whispered. "Yana Dar has found that she can erase her father's legacy and even erase centuries of evil committed against the Yuuzhan Vong through a creature of the Sith. Irek – " he paused briefly, and heaved a wistful sigh. "I can imagine what he felt in his last moments, how much it hurt him to be rejected by his father, one as well as the other, to be dismissed like any old tool."

"Perhaps the Seeker could tell you more about your past, then;" Luke suggested quietly, realizing what the other was getting at, but Father shook his head. 

"I am not even sure it would know an answer. He would have told me on Laa'kuan, I am certain of that, if he had truly known the truth. I can feel it."

  
Luke did not have to ask what _he_ Father meant. "Are you going to bury him?" he asked indstead.

"Yana insists," Father growled. 

"And what's so bad about it? He deserves a burial, don't you think? Or are you _still_ mad at him?"

  
The Dark Lord shrugged. "Old habits die hard, son, and I have never really managed to come to trust the old man. And I refuse to accept that he deserves anything for what he has done, no matter what he has achieved. I – " Closing his eyes, he grimaced painfully. "I know now, what he did before he met me on Niaraun, how he summoned that vast power to Laa'kuan. You do not want to know," he added curtly, before Luke could open his mouth. "He killed so many for reasons I cannot sanction or even understand. And I have vowed to myself that I will never become a simile of what he was. I am Cor'dan, but I am mortal." Father quirked a crooked smile. "The knowledge and insight _he_ had _I_ will never come to understand, and perhaps everyone should be grateful for that," he concluded nastily. 

Luke blinked his eyes in surprise, then smiled. "Oh, we are," he answered. "We are very grateful for that." His smile became a full-blown grin. Then the door opened suddenly, startling him, and Jix stuck his head through the opening. 

"Hey, did _you_ know we were leaving?" the Corellian demanded. 

"What?" Luke jumped up from his seat: "I thought we'd remain here until the negotiations were settled!"

The Corellian cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Well, Thrawn has just given order to return to Almashin."

Mouth hanging open, the young Jedi turned toward his father, who seemed strangely thoughtful. "So she has decided to sit this one out," Anakin explained at last. "What about Chi'in? Is he still aboard Shara Orl?"

"Seems so."

Anakin's eyes turned very cold. "I see. Well. I can hardly tell him what to do now, can I?"  


"Nope," Jix agreed, voice dead-pan, "he _always_ knows what he's doing, or so Mara tells me."

"Mostly he does, yes," the Dark Lord nodded. "And I wonder if he was behind our leaving now."

He nearly stumbled in his haste to get to the garrison's comm center and arrived out of breath. Ignoring the astounded glances his dishevelled appearance drew, Franzis Sarreti nodded at the comm operator. 

"Some privacy, please."

"Of course, sir," the man replied with a small smile.

A moment later he was alone, and took a deep breath before seating himself. His hands, lying on top of the comm switch board, were trembling uncontrollably. She had done it. She really had. Franzis tried a tentative smile, before he cut the switch on receive, and the static holo field dissolved into an image of the Empress' face. Double-checking the code, he realized she was calling from aboard the Imperial shuttle his people had lent to Jixton and Jade for their mission. Immediately his gaze returned to the holo before him. Her forehead was still decorated with three neat scars, that ended halfway to the bridge of nose, and her blue eyes were tired. She did not return his smile. 

"I need some advice from my counselor," she said, when he remained silent, and he was shocked at her voice, that was devoid of any emotion. 

Franzis suppressed an urge to say something stupid. "How may I serve you, Your Majesty?" he asked softly instead, feeling somehow uneasy.

She told him what she had told the Grand Admiral, and explained that she had thought a threat the best solution to finishing this business as quickly as possible. He winced at her innocent and misled assumption. "So, what do you say?" she finished at last.

"Honestly? It was a mistake, Your Highness. You should not have demanded so much so soon. Diplomacy requires patience, yet patience is not synonymous with having to wait a long time for things to happen. A more generous approach would have eased your way into the Chiss' good graces. They might even have granted your wish out of gratitude then."  
  
Yana smiled. "You do not know their Emperor, Counselor. But you are right. I should not have tried to beat him at his own game." Her eyes took on a faraway look.

"When will you be coming home?" Franzis could feel his heart beat faster, and feared his feelings showed on his face as she focused her attention on him again. He had no idea how she managed to look so distant and yet so vulnerable at the same time, but he found he really liked that combination. 

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"So I can prepare your welcome," he explained, hoping she couldn't see that he was sweating under her steady gaze. It was ridiulous, how easily she managed to get under his skin. When in the short weeks of her captivity had she become more to him than the icon he needed to preserve? But somehow seeing her again, knowing that she would be returning, was making his heart ache in anticipation. He thought he knew why. He longed for her approval of his deeds in her name, for her recognition of his cleverness. But she only gazed at him in some bewilderment.

"A welcome? You mean a reception?" A sad smile appeared on her lips. "I do not know whether that would be appropriate ..."

"Not appropriate! Your Majesty, anything less would be inappropriate! You are the Empress!"

She gave a soft laugh, that spoke volumes of her current state. "Empress, yes? I do not feel very imperial right now," she added gloomily, her devastation tearing Franzis' heart to shreds. 

In a very quiet voice he said: "Just come home." 

Nodding mutely, she cut the transmission, leaving him anxious and hurting. Something was very wrong with her, and if he did not do something to ease her mind she might even get it into her head to abdicate. He was well aware of her doubts, that had plagued her ever since she had first come to Byss. She had even offered to step back in his favor, once. But why now? Why was she so obviously depressed after having won the greatest victory in the Empire's history? It did not make any sense. Franzis shook off his own worries grimly and rose. Well, he did know his duties, and Yana Dar would get a fitting welcome, that much was clear. He smiled suddenly. First he had to make sure the Empress had a home to return to. The Citadel had been almost completely destroyed in the Yuuzhan Vong attack on Byss. He would have restoration begun immediately. Feeling a bit less worried, with a new goal before his inner eye, Franzis Sarreti left the comm center, already laying out plans for the Empress' 

homecoming. 

The maze at Laa'kuan was lit by torches, that reflected the golden sheen of the glow-stones set into the rock walls all around. Haunted by shadows, the labyrinth became even more mysterious than it appeared even in daylight. All along the wall of the inner ring of the core the weathered murals seemed to come to life. Chi'in kept a close watch on them, secretly hoping that they would reveal their secrets at last, but he found that erosion had gnawed too deeply into the reliefs after all. 

The center of the maze was filled by a silent assembly of Yuuzhan Vong, whose mutilated faces added to the eerie atmosphere that very night. A nightmare come alive, only now it had been turned into a dream of a new future, a new hope for them. And they had gathered here to pay tribute to the Sith Lord who had been keeper of their history, and guardian of their past. Presiding over the assembly, Yana Dar appeared no less sinister than her new subjects. The Empress wore a multi-layered robe of living tissue, a gift from a humbled Priestess Alyn Cha, and glittering crystals of the darkest purple hue were scattered in her mane of blonde curls. 

Her saphire blue eyes were gazing steadily at the Noghri Sith Lord, waiting for him to begin the ceremony. Chi'in had agreed to leading the service at last, along with High Priest Elu Cha, since he was the only one present who knew something of Sithian burial ceremonies. Even if that knowledge was somewhat sketchy, and even though Chi'in thought that if they were to bury Roj Kell, it should be a burial modeled after the ancient Sith's people's own traditions. With a last suspicious glance at the surrounding shadows, Chi'in stepped forward to join Elu Cha at the bier erected in the midst of the assembly.

Roj Kell's eyes had gently been forced open, as was customary, since it was believed that the spirit needed to see to find its way through the shadow realm of death, into the spirit world. The lethal wounds marring his torso had not been cleaned, though, and he was still dressed the same as the moment he had died. A tribute to his sacrifice, to a warrior's honor. Washing the blood away would have meant the same as demeaning his deeds. A set of three knives had been laid out on a boulder nearby, and Chi'in took up the largest, its reassuring weight resting easily in his hand. Very carefully he tipped the blade horizontally, and held it above the pale green eyes staring lifelessly up at the stars, blocking their line of sight to prevent the spirit from losing its way among the stars. But the moment the blade crossed that empty gaze, Chi'in felt that he had been betrayed after all. 

"Life and death have no power over the spirits," Belana heard her lover whisper in that enchanting voice of his, that was like a soft breeze on starlight, and his words were echoed deep down in the center of the maze._._ "So let this blade be your guide on your way."

Joining him, she lay an arm around his waist, then tentatively reached out to run her hand over his cheek reassuringly. It could not be easy, leading one's own funeral rites. He did not seem to notice her, his eyes fixed solely on the Noghri who was standing over his body down there.

His voice rose a bit as he said: "The blade be the mirror to your spirit. Examine it closely, and see the truth of your being_._"

Belana rested her head against his shoulder, simply holding him and listening as he continued. "You were called into the world of the living to serve the living. You were called into the light to learn the way of life. You were a guest in the world of the living. You were named by the living. Now you have been recalled into the shadow realm."

Deep below, the Noghri slowly put the knife aside and folded his hands in front of his chest. The entire assembly followed his lead when he bowed respectfully.

"Your name will remain as you leave us in spirit, as we release you from the world of the living. We will remember your name and what you were named for, your deeds and what you achieved through them. The shadows will remember your spirit, as we remember your deeds."

When the Noghri picked up the second knife, this one sporting a long, slender blade, Belana tensed involuntarily. She closed her eyes, when the knife was driven into the body's chest. 

But beside her, Roj Kell continued unpertubed. "The heart of darkness embraces the light as it embraces life and death. Embrace life, embrace death, be returned to light in darkness."

The sudden surge of shocked surprise emanating from the maze made Belana's eyes fly open again in horror, and she clung to Kell more tightly as she strained to see what had happened down in the labyrinth's heart. A strangled gasp escaped from between her parted lips as she stared at the members of the regal assembly, who had flattened themselves against the rock walls in a vain attempt to escape the unthinkable that had occurred. Only three figure still stood where they had before, at least two did, the Empress and the Yuuzhan Vong High Priest. The Noghri had taken a long step back, the slender blade visible in his clawed hand as he gazed at the biar, disbelieving. The biar, on which the late Roj Kell had sat up, as if nothing had happened. 

Belana's head snapped around as she blinked huge brown eyes at her lover. He was grinning at her with a strangely boyish smile, but she merely shook her head at him. Initiated as Cor'dan at the tender age of eight, he had retained a somewhat childish behaviour to this very day, she sometimes found, even if that child's pranks were exceptionally cruel and cold-hearted most of the time. But then his face grew serious again and he explained: 

"If the Cor'dan is killed before having initiated a successor, the spirit remains anchored to the body until it can be set free by this ritual. Meaning, until the heart of darkness is returned to the light, the body will not decay so it may be found and recognized."

  
"But why – " she gestured at the animated corpse down in the maze, words failing her. "When you died, I could feel – "

"What you felt then was something different. You see, the Cor'dan is a vessel chosen through the Force, he _is_ the Force, and his life is suspended until a successor is chosen and initiated. Once the Cor'dan surrenders his gift to the one to follow he is returned to life. Upon my death my succesor had not been fully initiated, therefore the vessel is now formally returned to life to be set free." He shrugged. "I would give much to see Anakin's face once he realizes that he has not escaped this fate after all."

Belana's lips twisted into a disgusted grimace. "You," she declared, "must be the sneakiest, meanest man I know."

He gave her a small bow. "Thank you, my dear." 

"So, is this what you wanted to accomplish?" she asked, nodding at the assembly. "A reunion of past and present?"

"A beginning, Belana, no more," he answered quietly, his pale eyes thoughtful. "That is all I could ever have accomplished. It is their choice what to make of it."

"Three thousand yeras, just for a beginning? Your last student was much more ambitious than that," she chided him. 

He smiled. "There is no end to the circle of life, Belana. All you can achieve is another beginning. The universe would have to end to end life." Then he wrapped her in his arms, a luminous smile on his face. He bent down to kiss her forehead tenderly, and surprised her again by whispering: "Just hold me, all right? Until it is over. I want to be with you all through the end."

She complied tentatively, feeling uncertain and resentful. He was toying with her emotions so easily, and yet she knew he was not doing it on purpose, not now. He simply knew no other way. Tightening her embrace, she pressed her cheek against his collarbones and concentrated all her being on holding him, just as he had asked. And to her great shock and grief, she found that he was trembling, caught in a strange seizure that brought tears to his eyes as well as hers. 

"I won't leave you," she breathed, filled with determination, but she could feel him slipping away, as death found his spirit at last. 

Yana Dar stood rooted in place, caught in dead eyes' compelling gaze. She had no idea what had happened, why the body had suddenly sat up on the biar, or why it was looking at her so intently. Yet she refused to surrender to fear. High Priest Elu Cha also had remained in place, but his face was twitching ominously. Only Chi'in, who had led the ceremony, seemed completely unsurprised. Suddenly the Noghri shook his head, as if to rid himself of a trance, then replaced the knife he still held in his hand with the last one, a curved dagger. Chi'in moved back toward the biar, confronting the animated dead sitting there unblinking. 

"Life is balance, and balance is death," the Sith Lord began again, and his voice echoed throughout the entire labyrinth. "Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the Jen-People, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the Jen-People, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in your heart, as you become one with the spirits once more."

He pointed the dagger straight at Roj Kell's heart. 

"Begone from this world, and take our prayers and wishes on your way. Regate'ti."

Yana felt her heart stop, when the body fell back with a thud, lying very still on the biar. She drew a ragged breath, desperately needed, then turned a questioning frown at Chi'in. He had lowered the blade again, and was gazing at something far off, like an afterglow of something elusive that had spread across the stars. The moment faded softly away, leaving only silence. 

Then, a while later, High Priest Elu Cha managed to shake off his paralysis and began the service he had prepared, no less elaborate than the Sithian ritual Chi'in had performed, but Yana could sense that something had changed. She joined Chi'in wordlessly, hoping that he might be able to tell her what exatly that was. 

"He is gone," the Noghri whispered. "Do you feel it? A void, here," he added, laying a hand over his heart.

Yet Yana could feel nothing. She only felt empty, cold and numb to her surroundings. Yet she gave a mute nod, not really caring whether Chi'in picked up on her missing emotions or not. _Just come home_. Franzis Sarreti's words were haunting her, and a faint hope stirred in her heart that she might find peace there. For the rest of the night, as the ceremony dragged on, Yana stood motionless, a beautiful statue, an icon. And wasn't that what she had always been meant to be? Only hours later, when Elu Cha had spoken the last words of the ritual, did she realize just what she had to do, and that knowledge lifted her spirits again. She had fought it all the time, though the solution was so easy, so easy to achieve. 

That night Empress Yana Dar vowed to herself that she would indeed leave everything to her trusted counselor to deal with, while she would be the one to back his endeavors, to approve, to inject quiet criticism where no one could hear. She would be the one atop the pedestal, an icon, a distraction, the way Franzis had always tried to guide her. Pride flooded her mind, pride in having Franzis at her side, having his insight and knowledge at her disposal. And in that pride she could feel something else too. Something she had always dismissed as friendship. But she remembered once more her fear for him when he had valiantly thrown himself in the way of her Yuuzhan Vong captors, the quiet suffering in his eyes when he had believed she had betrayed him, her pain at seeing him so disappointed. She wanted his approval, she realized, she wanted him to see her as the perfect icon he wished her to be. And she loved him. Loved him even more than she had ever loved Abla Othana, may his spirit rest in peace among the stars.

"You are crying," a soft voice told her, and Yana wiped a hand over her eyes, smiling sheepishly at Chi'in. 

"It is just – such a moving ceremony," she lied.

"What?"

  
Yana laughed at the incredulous look on his face; he was probably declaring her insane for shedding a tear for Roj Kell, but little did he know that it was something else entirely that had brought those tears. Happiness. Just that.

The Palace of Theed was nothing more but ruins, and no one had taken claim or responsibility for restoring it so far. Only few Nubians had remained on their homeplanet, most of the native population had scatterd all across the galaxy, and those that had remained had closed themselves off from galactic affairs and politics. The world that had once been named in one sentence with noble Alderaan, with justice and compassion, had sunken back into the insignificance of a backwater world at the Outer Rim. It had been decades ago that she had stood on these very marble steps for the last time. 

Padmé felt incredibly vulnerable and alone in what had once been her home, as if the eyes of the dead were watching her from the shadows of the ruins. She should feel safe here, but could not. Too much bad had happened for her to ever feel at ease again on Naboo. And yet, she remembered a night almost three months ago, when she had teased her husband about returning here for a second honey-moon. But he was not here. Shivering, she wrapped herself tighter into the thick cloak she wore draped over her shoulders. There was the soft crunch of boots over gravel. Startled, she whirled around to face the newcomer. It was Talon Karrde.

"We should return to the Retreat," he said, his voice cool and smooth. "It is getting late, and it is a bit too chilly for my taste."

Nodding slowly, Padmé started toward him. "I wonder when they will be coming here," she said softly as she reached the informtaion broker.

"I am sure they will be all right," he assured her just as quietly.

The former queen turned an anguished gaze on Karrde, feeling suddenly even more dejected. "I pray they are all right," she confessed. "I could not bear to lose them now."

"But the Seeker was very clear on their return, Your Ladyship."

  
"I know. But I am still anxious."

"You do not trust the Seeker, do you."

She gave a low snort. "Captain Karrde, had I not trusted the Seeker I would have done a lot of things differently. But I didn't, so I will have to bear my anxiety alone."

They walked toward where Karrde had landed his speeder and made their way to the Lake Retreat in silence. Padmé was caught up in bitter-sweet memories, unable to respond to her surroundings. Yet when she disembarked the wave-skimmer that had brought them to the small villa nestled against steep forested cliffs by the water-front, she felt a distant smile creep onto her lips. Karrde, always the gentleman, was holding his hand out to her for support. She took it graciously and stepped onto the flight of stairs leading up to the veranda. 

"I can see that your men have made themselves right at home here," she commented, noticing the slightly disorderly appearance of the compound. 

"They will have to adapt, Your Ladyship, but that won't be a problem."

Then Toss Halan came to meet them, a smile on his lips. "There was a message for you, Lady Padmé," he said with a nod. "Your daughter called. I have recorded the transmission for you."

"Thank you!" Her face lit up as she strode ahead, toward her own quarters, where a datadisc was sitting on top of the ornate, dust-covered desk that had been hers once. Inserting the disc into the compad that Halan had provided with the data, she smiled. An instant later the message appeared on the screen, and Padmé began reading anxiously. 

__

Dearest Mother,

I am anxious to come visit as soon as I can. I miss you already, and Han does too, even though he would never admit to such a thing. But he is talking of nothing else than spending our honey-moon on Naboo. You can tell he cannot wait to get married. I wonder if Father was that eager, too.

Padmé smiled at that. Eager? A soft laugh rang out from her mouth as she pondered how to explain to her daughter that her father had been quite a romantic in his youth, still was, sometimes. 

__

On the political front the storms seem to have died down here on Coruscant and Mon Mothma is recovering faster now. She will be back in office by the next month at the latest, and I will be grateful for a break, if Han will grant me one. I fear, though, that he will want to use my holidays for other time-consuming activities.

That comment brought a tiny smirk onto Padmé's lips. 

__

Oh, before I forget. The most important news has come in from Almashin, of course. The Chiss will send another representative, to free Commander Al'than'erudo of his duties. My guess is that the representative will be someone familiar. 

In other words, it would be Thrawn. But Padmé actually did not give a damn about who would be sent to Coruscant. Right now she wanted to know when her husband would be coming home. 

__

The Empire will also be sending an ambassador for negotiations, and General Seelac prays that that representative will be Sarreti, so he can tell him exactly what he thinks of his so-called allegiances. Tomas Piett will be coming himself, which won't make the situation any better. By the way, he has invited us to his inauguration next month. His dear friends, he said. 

And last, the news that will interest you the most. The Eisenhart and the Starhammer will be returning along with the New Republic fleet in seven standard days. I am in the midst of preparing a welcome for their commanders. Father won't be coming to Coruscant, though, which saddens me a bit, but he has promised to go straight from Almashin to Naboo. Luke and Nuron are giving him a lift aboard the Morning Glory, I hear. 

Padmé almost stopped reading then, her heart beating too fast for her to bear. But she made herself go on to read the last few lines. 

__

Please take care of Father, he will need it. Something has happened to him, and he won't tell me what it is. He hasn't even told Luke, and he is as concerned as I am. But do not worry. I just kow everything will turn out all right in the end. Doesn't it always?

Your loving daughter

Leia

In the matter of a heart-beat Padmé's good mood had dissolved. Sitting very still in the high-backed chair at the desk, she found her gaze focusing into the distance, where she found a conversation held some time ago, back on Bilbringi, where she had done something very stupid. The memory of that forbidden kiss still hurt and shamed her, and yet it were the words spoken that evening that haunted her. Roj Kell had told her then that he had chosen Anakin to become his successor, and he had warned her of what that would mean. He had charged her with responsibility for her husband's actions, and she recalled how frightened she had been by the prospect, fearing that her beloved would turn into the cold-hearted monster his predecessor had been. _Something has happened to him_. It could be nothing good.

That night Padmé did not sleep very well. She was tortured by nightmares and worries, and in the early morning hours she could bear the silent torture no longer, and fled her bedroom to find some solace in watching the sun rise above the mountains guarding the lake. A wistful sigh escaped from between her lips as she put her hands on the balcony's delicately carved stone railing, breathing the sweet scent of the flowers that grew wild down in the garden. So peaceful. For a moment her heart felt at ease. Leia was right. They would manage. There was nothing to fear, nothing at all. And yet she did not return to bed, but remained on the balcony for long hours, remembering the past.

"All right."

Kicking the door closed behind him – and it was such an old-fashioned door – Talon Karrde crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the array of electronics and screens that rose at the back of the hastily cleared chamber. The silent beep of various computers filled the otherwise silent room, an innocent sound that seemed to mock the vile thing lurking there, in front of him. Bracing himself, Talon Karrde strode over to the Seeker and took a seat on the simple chair that stood in front of the keypad. Activated by a set of commands, the center screen came to live.

__

Explain Project Zero-B, he typed and patiently read the clinical account presented on the screen. Then he wrote: _Explain mission to Almashin_.

__

Query?

The mission to Almashin, concerning Project Zero-B, Empress Yana Dar and Anakin Skywalker, Karrde continued, calmly checking over the references injected into the order. They were exactly the same the hologram had used.

__

Unknown query. 

Taking a calming breath, the information broker tried to come up with something else. But it had been very hard for him to retain his cool ever since Lando Calrissian had called this morning from Almashin, demanding why he had been sent to that damn Chiss backwater world only to hear that his message was as useless as yesterday's news, that the Dark Lord had already left for Naboo, and that no one knew anything about any Project Zero-B, let alone prayers to be answered. The message, the baron had declared, had undoubtedly been a hoax. 

Remembering something from the original report on the assessment of the war situation, Talon Karrde typed: _Tell me about Liyuma_.

__

Liyuma = Prankster [Ref. Jen Religion], Minor god of Os'jen'thana representing slyness and stealth [Ref. Hunting Rituals]. Other [Ref. Biography]. Karrde clicked the last reference link, already suspecting what would come next. He was proven right. _Liyuma, son of Alda Magor and Lyve Waroon. Born 3.501:10:00 BCT, place of birth [Ref. Os'jen'thana]. Reborn 3.496:10:04 BCT [Ref. Rebirth, Ref. Naming Day, Ref. Roj Kell]. _

He grimaced in disgust, angry at himself for having fallen for such an old trick. No hologram then. "You sneaky old bastard," was his heart-felt comment. "I swear that was the last time you played any trick on me. I swear."

But, deep down, Talon Karrde realized that he would always be on the losing side of this game. Unfortunately. He shook his head curtly, then bent over the keypad again. 

"All right then, let's see what you can tell me about the stock market on Coruscant ..."

TBC 


	41. Chapter 40 - Aftermath

****

Chapter 40 – Aftermath

When Roganda found herself waking in a strange medical ward she almost panicked, believing her worst nightmares to have returned. Then she remembered. She had asked the medics who had tended to her after her flight and rescue to remove the Yuuzhan Vong implants from her body, and they had complied, understanding her need to get rid of those alien objects. It had been an extensive operation, and they had warned her that she might spend a day or two in a semi-conscious slumber. She did not recall much of what had happened during those two days, and her mind felt somewhat fuzzy. After a while she had grown accustomed to the silence of her room and the soothing blue light that filled her vision. 

Roganda's body stiffened, when she realized that that blue glow was not emanating from the lamps at the ceiling. Those had been turned off, telling her that it was probably night over Anmedra. With some difficulty and a rapidly beating heart, she pushed herself upright. Her throat felt suddenly very dry, and tears stung in her eyes. Raising a hand pleadingly, she strained to reach the boy that stood at the door, regarding her out of cool blue eyes. His black hair was dishevelled, and he still wore the black clothes he had worn when she had last seen him alive. When had that been? Back at Yaga Minor, shortly before she and the Princess had been captured by Warlord Zsinj's troops and later been rescued by Han Solo and his friend, that baron whose name she had forgotten.

"Lando Calrissian," Irek supplied calmly, and a tiny smile curled his lips upward.

"What?"

"Lando Calrissian, the baron whose name you cannot remember. Mother."

Now she was totally confused. "How did you know? Did you read my mind?"

"No, his," Irek shrugged. "He's sitting outside your room. In fact he's been there for the last few hours." The boy gave her a roguish grin that she had not seen on him in years. "I suppose he's waiting for you to wake up. Are you sure you do not know him?"

Roganda shook her head, still bewildered, but gradually she felt happiness spread throughout her being, happiness at being granted this moment with her son. "Irek," she said softly. "Come here. Let me take a look at you." He shuffled closer, strangely reluctant. "You have grown so much," she whispered.

"Really? I don't see how that would be possible. " He grimaced.

"Not physically, silly. Here," she tapped her head slightly. It had been the wrong thing to say, she realized, when a look of pain sped across his eyes, and too late she remembered just what had made him grow that way. "I am sorry," she added hastily, preparing to leave the bed to hug him. 

He waved her back and instead took a seat at the edge of the bed, next to her. "Mother," he began, "I am happy to be here with you. I have been missing you."

"Oh, Irek." Roganda felt her heart melt away, and her anxiety faded away, leaving only a soft glow of happiness. "Then you found forgiveness for your foolish mother?" she asked hopefully, yet feared his answer.

Irek put a hand on her shoulder and bent forward to kiss her forehead. "I should have been more grateful for having you with me," he said sadly, "instead of chasing shadows and dreams." 

"Your father – "

"Which one?" he asked bitterly. "They are both the same, I believe." His gaze softened somewhat, became less fierce. "I am sorry, Mother, I did not mean to scare you."  
Roganda had not even realized that she looked frightened. "I have not been granted much time," Irek explained regretfully. "But I wanted to come and tell you that I love you. I really do." His eyes widened in horror, and he quickly leaned forward to wipe her tears away. "No! Don't cry, please! I did not mean to make you cry ..." He trailed off, and the look on his face was so full of fear and silent suffering that Roganda could almost hear her heart crack and break. She thought she knew what he was fearing. That she would not accept him either, after what he had done.

"Yana is all right," Roganda explained soothingly. "We've made friends, she and I. She is a remarkable woman."

"She's my sister," he added proudly, making his mother smile.

"Yes, undoubtedly. Your – father," Roganda's expression grew more concerned as her son's face darkened in respone. "He is dead." Her voice rose into an angry growl. "I wanted to kill him myself, but I wasn't the only one, it seems. I suppose he got what he deserved."

"Yana has forgiven him," Irek explained thoughtfully. "I could feel it. It took some of my own anger away."

Crestfallen, Roganda reached for him, but her hands went right through him. "Irek. Son –"

"I killed Erinin," he said suddenly, his voice choked with tears. "I was so stupid. I realize that now." He sniffled a bit, then wiped a hand over his nose. "Why was I too blind to see that the only father I'd ever need was always there with me? I am so sorry for that, and for killing Yana's friend." He shook his head, his lips compressed in a tight line. "I guess I got what I deserved too," he concluded with finalty.

Roganda gasped in shock. "No! Never believe that you deserved to die, Irek! You could have had a future! That's all I wanted for you to have," she sobbed, "a future."

"Mother," he whispered, "you know that is not true. I could not have lived with the guilt, not in the long run, not even if I had realized then what I know now. I could not have forgiven myself." 

Lowering her head in sorrow, Roganda nodded at last. "If that is what you believe – "

"Mother?" She looked up again, eyes tear-filled, to gaze at her son's earnest face. "Do not blame yourself for my deeds. Those are the past. I just want you to remember me. That is all."

"I will, I promise," she managed, and even found the strength to smile.

Again he kissed her, this time she could feel his cool lips on her cheek. "Thank you."

Closing her eyes, too moved to respond, Roganda felt his presence fade, and the darkness returned to her room. But there was a tiny flame dancing in the depth of her heart, comforting her. "Oh Irek," she sighed. "How could I ever forget you, you silly boy?" Shaking her head she lay back again to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The Empress' shuttle landed unmolested, yet more than one of the soldiers forming the honor guard threw an uneasy glance at the giant Yuuzhan Vong worldship that had brought her to Byss. Only Franzis Sarreti was gazing steadily at the landing ship, impatience wearing his nerves thin. The citadel was not yet fully restored, but the reconstruction work continued day and night, and they had at least finished the Empress' private wing of apartments fully. During the works, which Franzis oversaw personally, with no immediate crisis to resolve at this point, not until Yana's return, he had been presented with something found in the rubble by one of the soldiers working over the site. He still remembered the man's sweaty face, as he had handed the token over to the Counselor with a broad smile. 

"For the Empress," he had declared, and Franzis had refrained from telling the finder that everything on the construction site belonged to the Empress, and that he could not really give her something she already owned as a gift. But he had taken it anyway, with thanks and encouragement for the continuing work. As it turned out, the salvaged present was a Jedi medallion, undoubtedly recovered from the Imperial museum of the citadel, which had stored Palpatine's most valued treasures. Once Franzis had realized what it was, he had been reluctant to even present it to Yana. As a Force-user herself, she might take offense. Well, he could always decide later. The loud hiss of the shuttle's hatch popping open distracted him, and he hastily straightened some more, eyes focused on the newcomers.

The first to emerge were two Yuuzhan Vong warriors, both dressed in full battle-armor. "Hold!" Franzis snarled, when a few of the Imperial guards made as if to go for their weapons.

Seemingly unpertubed by the reaction they had caused, the two warriors stepped a bit apart, to reveal the shadowy outline of an elaborately dressed Empress. Once Yana took the first few steps down the ramp, her spell caught everyone present on the landing platform, and Franzis was relieved to see that he was not the only one whose jaw dropped at the stunning sight. He knew, theoretically, that everything she wore was alive, perhaps even sentient to a certain extent. But she did not look the least uncomfortable with her attire, which included a high-collared dress with a tight bodice and a skirt that flared out from her waist almost horizontally, before it fell down to the ground. It was black, and covered with a chitinuous sheen. The dress was complemented by what looked like a helmet and sat atop Yana's thick curls, taming them somewhat. The impression she made was that of some beautiful war goddess. She obviously wore the three scars decorating her forehead with some pride.

Hurrying toward her after another moment of quiet admiration, Franzis dropped to one knee before her, and immediately the two Yuuzhan Vong were beside him, ready to intervene, should he try to harm the Empress. Yana waved them away leisurely.

"Please rise, Counselor," she asked softly and Franzis complied, noticing for the first time the alien standing behind the Empress, Chi'in clan Rim'kai. The Sith Lord's presence was unexpected, but Franzis knew he had enough time to find out why exactly he was here. Later.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty," he said, a smile on his face. "I fear the reception is not as grand as it could have been, but I decided to put more effort into reconstructing the citadel than preparations for a parade."

Yana laughed. "An excellent choice, Counselor, and exactly what I expected. Thank you," she added shyly.

Embarrassed, Franzis harrumphed loudly and fished the Jedi medallion from his pocket. "If I may, Private Marten Vishall found this in the ruins and asked me to give it to you as a symbol for their committment to rebuilding the citadel." He had made the last part up, but it seemed fitting. Taking the medallion, a gold coin, really, Yana placed it deftly on her palm. For a moment she seemed very still, then a look of horror crossed her face, and she closed her fingers over the medallion swiftly, yet her eyes still bore testimony to immense pain.

"Empress -?" Franzis began, concerned, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly. 

He winced when she forced a happy smile on her face, but she went through the rest of the welcome ceremony without showing any more signs of torment, either physical or mental. But when finally she excused herself from the reception, she nodded at her counselor to accompany her. Anxious, Franzis hurried across the floor to reach her, and they walked silently side by side through the half-finished hallways that led to her private wing. When they had reached the threshold, Franzis hesitated, but she motioned for him to come in. The door closed behind them.

"You have done very well," Yana said, dropping into one of the chairs dotting the antechamber. She seemed very tired. Franzis joined her presently, but waited for her to continue. There was something on her mind, he realized, and she was trying to find a way to tell him. Yet her eyes seemed distant, her face slack and without emotion. When she continued, it was to say something completely unexpected. "I have decided to accept my duties fully."

  
"That is – great," Franzis replied lamely, feeling a bit confused. 

The Empress turned a knowing smile on hime. "Is it that? It means a great many things, Counselor. For one, it means that you will have to shoulder all the administrative work, while I only have to sign the documents and make diplomatic calls."

"And what is Master Chi'in to do?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I do not know." Yana leaned back in her chair langurously. "Probably the same that he has been doing so far. Teaching, counseling, offering guidance and protection."

Balking a bit at that, Franzis frowned. "Counseling and offering guidance are really my job description, Your Highness," he offered a bit testily, and her smile deepened some more. 

"I know that, Franzis, but I have another task for you that will be very time-consuming, I fear." 

He nodded sagely. "There was a message for you, brought by Master Fett. It is from Lord Kell."

"What does it say?"

Franzis frowned a bit. "The message is for you, not me."

"You mean you haven't read it?" She sounded surprised.

"Of course not! I kept it for you. Here." 

Rising from his seat he walked over to the desk at the window and took the cube from the drawer he had put it into, then stalked back to hand it to Yana. She took it, but sat gazing at it for some time until she activated it. The message had to have been recorded at Bilbringi, Franzis thought, only a few days before Kell's death. The ancient Sith's face, when it appeared, was earnest.

"I regret having to leave my post as your advisor, Your Majesty, but dire business calls me away," the recording began. "You may believe that fate has treated you unfairly, but you must realize the chances you have been given, despite the disaster that might seem to overwhelm you. Nothing can break a strong will, Yana Dar, and you have such a strong will. You also have allies that will back you, no matter what. Be careful, though. There are those who would sell this galaxy out to anyone, if the outcome appears promising enough." A smile lit up the old man's features. "One last thing, Yana. Do not be afraid of the dark. It can be a shelter, a weapon, and a cure. No matter how deep you might dive into it, there is always a light to guide you, you only have to find the courage to see it." 

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Yana whispered, her tone one of utter betrayal, and Franzis could feel his heart ache with hers. But Roj Kell wasn't finished. With a scowl pasted onto his face he said something in a strangely guttural language, that Franzis recognized at once. 

"What did he say?" he asked, frowning.

"Sacrifice is a matter of perspective, not a matter of pride," she explained, translating the Yuuzhan Vong words. "He knew what path I would choose," she concluded, her voice dropping even further.

Suddenly her cool demeanor cracked, and the expression that appeared on her face was positively frightened. He realized that she was afraid of being rejected, laughed at and ridiculed. In an instant Franzis was out of his chair and kneeling next to hers. 

"Your Highness, what is it with you? You seem different," he tried clumsily. "Is it the implants? Why did you keep them? If you need a rest we can arrange that too. Anything you need," he concluded haltingly, transfixed by her eyes. When she reached out to take his face in her hands he was paralyzed with delicious joy and swallowed slowly, trying to prolong the sweet moment some more. 

"I realize I did not find the right words when I said that you have done well. You managed to keep me going even though you were not with me, and I always looked to you as example to get me through this ordeal. Can you imagine that? Even in the midst of battle I held firmly on to that image of my stiff-backed counselor, always calm, never at a loss of what to do or say." She smiled again, a private smile, that made his heart ache with longing. "I know that as Empress – and icon," she added as an afterthought, a jibe directed at him, he knew, "I am required to hold to a certain standard, but will you shame me into saying it? I can sense that we feel the same way about each other," she continued quietly, her tone humble. "Trust me when I say I did not expect this to happen, but it did. I won't deny it any longer. Will you?"

Franzis' throat was very dry when he shook his head ever so slowly. Gently freeing himself of her grasp he took her hands in his, holding them reverentially, close to his heart. "You honor me, Empress," he said hoarsely, and he knew he had to be blushing. "I confess that what I desired was your approval, your trust and committment to my cause. Now I have both, and more besides. I – " he closed his eyes. "I love you. Force help me, I do."

"Excellent," she breathed, her warm voice caressing his soul as she leaned toward him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Which is were the other job I have for you comes in. You know," she added, amused, "it is also an Empress' duty to provide a heir to the throne, and for that she needs a consort."

"Your Majesty! That is inappropriate!" Franzis exclaimed out of reflex and shocked surprise at her boldness. 

She only laughed. "No, my dear. That is _an order_."

The Morning Glory, befitting her name, had settled down on the landing pad concealed in the mountain range opposite from Varykino the very moment the sun rose above the lake, turning the water's surface into molten gold and liquid fire. Awed by the sight, both Luke and Nuron were very silent when they followed Anakin down the sloping steps down to the shore, were they were already expected. 

"Karrde," the Dark Lord said lightly. "I did not know you were such an early riser."

"Neither did I," the information broker replied gruffly, but his beard hid his smile only inadequately. "Come, get on board."

The wave-skimmer crossed the lake swiftly, and the roaring of its engines was echoed faintly from the mountain cliffs. Yet the peaceful silence permeating the valley stood firm against the intruding noise, and was still audible all around. Anakin was smiling in remembrance of his first visit to Varykino, the Naberrie family's retreat here in the Lake Country of Naboo. It seemed fitting to return to this place for the reunion with Padmé, that he had longed for so much ever since they had left Almashin. He missed her terribly. Even before they had fully drawn up to the small wharf he had already jumped over to the quayside and hurried up the steps to the large veranda overlooking the lake.

Anakin stopped short, transfixed by the sight. Padmé stood alone on the huge flagtiles that made up the deck, dressed in a floor-length robe of a creamy white hue. Not a simple robe, but an elegant, delicately embroidered dress that complemented her skin and loose hair perfectly. It was clear to him that she had put some effort into this outfit, into making herself presentable for her husband, and that touched his heart in a way he had not felt ever since they had been separated so long ago. He almost took no notice of Luke and Nuron, who tried to sneak past dicreetly, not wanting to disturb the mood. But Padmé had other plans.

"Luke, won't you say hello to your mother?" she asked coolly, and the boy hastily diverted his path to go and hug her dutifully. 

"I missed you," he murmured softly, but it was clear that he'd rather be elsewhere. Amused, Anakin crossed his arms in front of his chest, and watched Nuron endure the former queen's scrutiny and welcome. When Padmé released the young couple again Karrde had already vanished into the complex. Strolling over to join his wife, Anakin was smiling.

"So, did you miss me too?" she asked, brows cocked questioningly.

He bent down to kiss her cheeks. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think that was a lousy attempt at a kiss," she replied haughtily, but returned his smile.

"You look stunning, as always. As for the kiss, I really would not want to embarrass Luke further."

She laughed. "Nuron will rid him of that embarrassment soon enough, I believe!" Hooking her arm underneath his elbow, she started for the lodge, and Anakin followed contentedly. "Come, you must tell me everything that happened out there."

Suddenly it occurred to Anakin that his wife was strangely anxious and a bit too obviously happy for the usually so serene former queen. "Is there a problem?" he asked, bewildered. 

She stopped in front of her quarters, looking up at him out of large brown eyes. "You tell me," she replied. "Leia thought you might be – depressed."

"What? Depressed? Here, with you?" Even more confused, Anakin tried to think of what might have prompted his daughter to draw such a conclusion. Then he remembered, and his face darkened for a moment. "Oh. I see. No, I don't think I am depressed. Not any more, that is." He ran a hand over his bald head self-consciously.

"So, what happened?" Padmé pressed on as she opened the door. They entered together. 

"Just something I didn't expect." And that was an understatement. On Laa'kuan he had been relieved to find that he was different from his predecessor, that he did not have to give up his life to serve as Cor'dan. But then, only a few days later, on their way to Almashin, fate had caught up with him. "I fear you'll have to share me with an inexplicable force from now one," he added lightly, and Padmé gave a sad smile. 

"I know. Kell told me."

Anakin's blood froze in shock. "He did?"

"Back on Bilbringi, yes."

  
"Oh, on _Bilbringi_. I see." Relieved, he dropped onto the couch by the fire-place, where he was quickly joined by Padmé. "I almost feared he'd come back somehow."

"He isn't coming back, my love. And I won't share you with anyone."

Her sincere vow lit up his heart with a fierce fire of pride and contentment. "Is that so?"

"Indeed."

It was afternoon by the time they had finished discussing the past events in detail, and outside the lake was a shimmering mass of glittering light. The sound of bird song and the chirping of small insects rose from the garden and entered the bedroom on a light, warm breeze. Lying on the bed and wrapped in Padmé's slender arms, Anakin felt very good indeed. Suddenly he smiled, and kissed the tip of his wife's nose playfully. "You kow," he said, "I really wonder how many children will be born in the aftermath of this war."

"_I_ am not going through that again," she replied somewhat stiffly. "Once was enough. And we _do_ have a pair of beautiful children already."

Anakin laughed out loud and was pushed out of her embrace for his trouble. Still wheezing with laughter, he reached out to bury a hand in her long, soft tresses. "No, no," he soothed her, smiling at her petulant expression. "I rather meant that we have a good chance of becoming grand-parents by the end of the year. Remember when we talked about it?"

Her face lit up. "Oh. Of course!" Snuggling up to him again she caressed his chest gently. "You mean, now that our beautiful children have found their own soul-mates?"

  
"Exactly." They kissed. "So, how many do you want?"

"As many as possible."

  
Leia felt a headache coming on, not surprisingly. She had been stuck in these meetings for the past five days, and neither Seelac nor Thrawn were willing to accept Franzis Sarreti's proposals. Nolyane, the Star Keeper herself, though, seemed to have no problem accepting the Yuuzhan Vong as legitimate citizens of the Empire. It had been almost a month since the Yuuzhan Vong invasion had been beat back and ended, but chaos prevailed in most administrative departments on Coruscant. Including her own. Longingly she thought of a long bath, a quiet evening with Han, some relaxation, but she wouldn't be granted either today, she mused resignedly. Most issues had been resolved in the negotiations, but there was that one – a highly explosive matter – and it had Chief Military Advisor Seelac jumping left and right in frustration.

"Come now, General," she told Seelac, fearing he would suffer a heart attack if he continued to work himself up that way over the matter. "Counselor Sarreti is trying as hard as you are, and he does not mean to sabotage these talks, I am certain."

  
Seelac's face turned an even darker red. "Minister, it is an outrage and insult to us all for the Empire to grant amnesty to these butchers! It is even more of an insult and outrage to make them citizens in this galaxy! No matter of what nation!"

Franzis Sarreti, of course, appeared totally unruffled by the general's repeated insults and accusations. Arching his brows meaningfully, the counselor nodded his thanks at Leia for her intervention. "General, I do not quite understand how you can be so upset," he explained carefully. "I remember most vividly that the New Republic pardoned quite a few of the Imperial commanders that were captured during the war, and called for amnesty for all remaining officers and soldiers willing to join the New Republic Navy. I see little difference between what you did back then and what I am proposing right now. It is not that you can prevent us from going through with this anyway. I would simply appreciate it if we could still retain diplomatic and economic ties with the New Republic as well as with the Chiss Empire." Here he directed a glancing nod at Thrawn, who did not react.

But Seelac jumped out of his chair and for a moment Leia feared he would go for Sarreti's throat. "You dare!" the general roared, making the princess flinch. "You compare those monsters' deeds to what was no more than a war led by duty! Those creatures meant to destroy the entire galaxy! All of them! And we did punish and execute the worst cases, Counselor! I don't see any of that happening in the Empire! All I see is that you graciously pardon vicious murderers!" He dropped back into his chair with a huff. "Under these circumstances I see no way to come to an agreement with your government," he concluded more calmly. 

Out of the corner of her eye Leia noticed the Chiss Syndic leaning forward, folding his hands on top of the table. "If I may," Mith'raw'noruodo began, his cool voice soothing everyone. "I understand General Seelac's misgivings, and share them. The Chiss have suffered dearly under the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, and though I understand that Her Highness Yana Dar has suffered no less, perhaps even worse, and even though I admire her generosity, I also concur with General Seelac. Additionally, His Revered Highness Emperor Ja'han'mandana has asked repeatedly to be granted a meeting with the Empress and has been refused every time." He turned glowing red eyes on Sarreti, who gazed back just as calmly. "Your request concerning the occupation of unchartered worlds is therefore unacceptable without additional securities."

Nodding gravely, Franzis Sarreti answered: "I did not come here to leave empty-handed again, ladies and gentlemen. Fact is, that we do need new worlds to accomodate the Yuuzhan Vong. We will not take those worlds by force, I assure you, but I still must ask you to reconsider."

"That is just brilliant;" Seelac snorted. "I can just see the Empire returning to its origins! Palpatine never saw fit to keep his promises either! And you know as well as I do, Sarreti, that with the Yuuzhan Vong technology you have you are a major power in that sector! Not to mention that your Empire also commands the remaining Sith! I do not wish to ally myself with an Empire that will only become a perversion of what its leaders painted to be the great ideal for order or justice! We saw what came of that!"

"I never said anything about order or justice," the counselor shot back icily. 

There was a discreet harrumph, and Leia felt very relieved to find that Tomas Piett had finally decided to join this discussion. The former admiral, his pale eyes clear and alert, gave each one of them a sharp glance, before he addressed Seelac directly. "All valid arguments and justified fears," he began calmly, "and yet also so very narrow-minded. You are comparing Yana Dar to her father even though she has given testimony to just how different she is from what he was." He gestured toward Sarreti, who appeared as suspicious as both Seelac and Thrawn. "We all know what the Empire did to those it conquered, those it thought savage, inferior or simply a nuisance. I for one am grateful that Yana Dar does not repeat those vengeful methods her father used, and instead opted for a more generous and lenient approach."

"Of course you would side with them," Seelac replied nastily. "You've allied yourself with them even during the war, and you would be the first they would conquer, given the chance."

"You misunderstand, General, I – "

"Oh, I understand very well."

"Enough!" Leia rose from her seat, looming over the assembly despite her small height, and her brown eyes were burning embers of outrage. "This sessioin is closed for today," she growled. "I will be preparing a set of proposals that I ask you all to review carefully. We will discuss them the day after tomorrow. In a calm, civilized manner," she added dangerously. "I hope that will be enough time for all of you to cool off."

"Are you sure you will manage to prepare those proposals in time?" the Grand Admiral asked sweetly, a knowing smile on his face that was repeated all through the assembly. Suddenly Leia felt faintly embarrassed. 

"Do not worry about what I can accomplish and what not. You should rather try to improve your own efforts here," she replied at last, deflated. For the last few hours she had managed to forget about her nervousness, but now her stomach started churning again in anticipation. She would get married tomorrow. "That is all," she finished, then smiled. "I will see you all at the ceremony and reception. And I expect there to be no bloodshed or any such thing," she added.

"We'll behave," Franzis Sarreti said, voice dead-pan. "I swear." 

Did she just hallucinate, or was that a wink he sent in Seelac's direction? Suddenly Leia felt left out of the picture. She had expected yesterday's discussion to continue, of course, but something seemed just not right. The smiles on their faces seemed too knowing, as if – Leia smiled, despite herself. She would not put it past them to have already come to an agreement, that they only had staged this outrage to annoy her. Was that a grin on the Grand Admiral's face? It was shocking.

"Tell me," she began carefully, her features carefully neutral, "I won't be coming back here the day after tomorrow only to find that this situation has been resolved already and my work here today was for nothing, will I?"

"All things are possible," Tomas Piett offered philosophically.

Leia rose. "Right. Then I will see you all tomorrow. Than you for this enlightening discussion, and good night." And indeed, once she left the chamber, the sound of quiet laughter followed her out. 

An odd trio stood in the cold, blank hallway outside the base's detention level, waiting. Jix was slouching against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest and smoking his pipe, while Mara kept glancing at the officer on duty who sat behind his desk just behind the energy field sealing the detention area off. The Chiss seemed completely unpertubed by her steady gaze. But once in a while his glowing eyes would flicker to the third visitor, a short, grey-skinned alien. Andarack had gotten himself quite a reputation in the battle for Anmedra. It seemed that every Chiss knew him by sight. 

Then a short gong sounded throughout the hallway and the Chiss officer rose from his desk. "Step back, please," he ordered, before deactivating the shield. "Wait there, please," he added, pointing at the wall opposite from his desk.

__

Great. Strolling over, Jix joined Mara and Andarack and the three of them resumed their waiting. Two minutes later four Chiss guards rounded the corner, a familiar figure in their midst. Naas Deron's hair was cut short and he had lost a bit of his bulk, but apart from that he seemed to be okay. Apart from that, and the look in his eyes. Jix winced inwardly.

"What a nice welcome committee," the Sith Lord commented drily. He glanced briefly at Andarack, but Jix could tell that he was slightly disappointed that it wasn't Chi'in. "Where are you taking me?"

"Byss, of course," Jix explained, once Deron had received his private possessions from the Chiss officer and signed the receipt. 

Deron frowned. "Byss? Why Byss?"

"Rehabilitation," Mara explained earnestly, and Jix grinned at the way Deron's eyes bulged. 

Then the Corellian threw a flippant salute at the Chiss and told the other: "Say good-bye to these fine gentlemen, cause we're leaving. Thane is waiting for us at the ship."

Naas Deron frowned. "Thane? Would you be referring to Commander Al'than'erudo, then?" They set into motion, beginning the long walk back to the base' hangar bay at a leisured pace.

"Yep. Takes too long to pronounce that name fully, so I kinda asked his permission to take a short-cut." He grinned.

"I don't suppose your'e calling the Emperor 'Han', right?"

"Only when no one's around."

Naas Deron heaved a tiny sigh. "I see you haven't changed much, Mister Jixton. Good for you. I heard His Revered Highness himself ordered my pardon," he added, definitely hoping for a straight answer.

Jix shrugged. "Yeah, I heard that too."

"I also heard you've been made special Imperial ambassador to Csilla," the Sith Lord pressed on. "Not to mention you helped save his life back at Kynda'bey. One might suspect that this is your doing."

Mara laughed out loud, shaking her red mane. "Men! Jix, why don't you just plead guilty and have this over with?" She gave Naas Deron a conspirative wink. "Now that Skywalker is safely back with his family, Jix had to find a new victim and Yana wanted to get him out of her hair, understandably. It turns out that my darling has a weakness for authority, as long as he can get on its nerves."

"And he gets away with it?" Deron asked interestedly. "I would have thought Ja'han'mandana would be less lenient than Lord Skywalker."

Mara reached out to ruffle Jix' hair, before he could get away. "Oh, you know how it is, every king his own fool."

"_That_ was nasty," Jix exclaimed, truly hurt.

"But so true," Andarack injected quietly. 

"Hey, I thought you guys were my friends! And now I find that I've placed myself neatly ina den of sneaky vipers! You know, I really – " But his protests were drowned out by their laughter, and after a while Jix forgot about why he had been angry in the first place. Perhaps Andarack had been right after all. 

The inauguration ceremony had been pretty severe, but adequate, Tomas thought. Election day had seen him confirmed as president and Lemit Zickorey initiated as his vice-president, just as he had expected. And now, three months after the decisive battles at Kynda'bey and Almashin, with the diplomatic negotiations gradually turning into real diplomatic discussions instead of a set of heated shouting-matches, he had assembled his friends and allies here on Bilbringi to attend the inauguration ceremony and the grand opening of the Memorial Art Gallery, which had been incorporated into the after-ceremony reception. He was strolling the different rooms slowly, Raisa by his side, and for the first time in months he felt truly content and safe. 

Raisa, dressed in a tight red silk dress, her short black curls falling loosely about her face, was nervous, he could tell. All of the paintings and sculptures that were presented here were her works. Over time new ones would join the collection of course, also of different artists, but this day was reserved for Raisa alone. Unused to these festive surroundings and to the illustre assembly of guests, Raisa clung to him for support, an unusual move for this fierce woman, and Tomas felt unsure of how to ease her mind. He had been telling her over and over again that everything would be all right, but she had countered thats he feared everyone would be praising her works only because of who she was with. Despite Tomas' sincere protests, she had not managed to shed the tight look on her face. 

Suddenly she dragged him over to a small group of spectators that had assembled in front of one of the larger paintings. He was a bit surprised by her sudden determination, but went along. One of the spectators, he noticed, was Princess Leia, with her brother standing close behind. Her husband, Captain Solo, was nowhere in sight.

"Do you like it?" Raisa asked quietly, and the princess whirled around, surprised, to face the taller woman. 

"Oh, Raisa! Tomas!" she exlaimed. "A wonderful reception, yes, thank you." But before Raisa could say anything else Leia gestured at the canvas, a sparkle in her eyes. "I was just explaining to Luke what it means."

"Leviathan," her brother quoted, "a fitting title."

They turned around to gaze at the picture again. It showed a huge, dark shape rising above a misty planet like a vengeful wraith, and it seemed alive with evil intent and a desire to destroy and kill. The background of black space and a multitude of stars did not alleviate the menace that emanated from the image at all. It was eerie, how the painting spoke through eyes and imagination right to the heart. Tomas knew exactly what it depicted. The Yuuzhan Vong worldship that had threatened Bilbringi, that the Princess had destroyed with the aid of Roj Kell. There was a portray of both somewhere in the collection, he recalled, also capturing the essence of their differing personalities. Which reminded him, that he had to go and accompany the Dark Lord on a walk through the gallery too. _That_ should be very interesting. 

Leia shivered ever so slightly. "You are a true artist, Raisa," she declared. "Father already warned me, though, that the paintings would be somewhat sinister. But I like that, the abstract form too. It conveys the very core of the war, the suffering, the fear, and hope." She smiled. "I like the one you painted of Tomas. I have never seen him really smile before."

"Or with so few clothes on," Luke Skywalker added drily. 

"Damn," Tomas breathed, blushing hotly. "I hoped that no one would recognize me on that one."

"Father's comment, I recall, was: The Imperial officer corps has often been named a fine body of men. Now we know why," the Princess added, chuckling softly. "I think he is right."

Ignoring the women's giggles, Tomas looked around furtively, to find something to distract them. "Speaking of," he said. "Let's go and find him. I believe this merits a thorough discussion."

He glanced over at the plaque of Nubian marble, that had been fixed discreetly next to the balcony door, and unbidden his memory supplied the price Piett had said they'd paid for that magnificent ornament, gray swirls on black. But the true price, the one they had paid in blood and tears, had been chiselled into the stone in silver lettering. Four names, in memory of so many they had lost. Anakin's smile was bitter-sweet as he began reading them, remembering. 

Cronn had been the first, impossibly killed by Erinin Mahda aboard the Executor. Anakin could easily recall the Falleen's cool grace, the quiet surety with which he had followed his master into battle. The master who had lost more than one student in this struggle. The next on the list, whose senseless death still stung Anakin's heart, was Irek Ismaren. A boy, with a brilliant mind that was not his own and a twisted, yearning heart. Though Anakin had never met him in person, he could feel the boy's pain linger in his own heart. He had felt the same way, years ago. But contrary to Luke and Leia, contrary to Irek, he had never even known who his father had truly been. 

The third name brought a bitter smile to his face, remembering a love torn apart by death. Puket had always been the exotic flower among them, an ethereal beauty whose achievements had never sparked any comment, who had always been the odd one out, before she had found her love in Naas Deron. Such a brief love. He had survived her, though the Force knew he had tried very hard to follow her into oblivion. In a way he was as much victim as she.

Anakin's mood grew even more somber as he stared at the fourth and last name. That one had died as he had lived. For over three thousand years Roj Kell had kept his life and existence a mystery, a secret that would never be fully uncovered, no matter that he had left his memories for the galaxy to ponder for an eternity. Anakin raised his glass in a respectful salute. _Here's to what you have achieved_, he offered silently, ironically, for he himself was part of that accomplishment. He was not yet sure if he would ever be able to deal with that.

Taking a sip of wine he absent-mindedly started playing with the Jedi medallion that Yana had given him earlier. _I think you should have this_, she had said, her voice uncharacteristically low. He had slipped it into his pocket hurriedly, too busy following the inauguration ceremony to bother looking at it. Now he took it out of the pocket to examine it. The medallion lay smoothly in his palm, cool and reassuring. Traditionally twelve such coins would be manufactured when a Jedi Knight attained the rank of Jedi Master, to be given to family and friends for remembrance. He squinted at the inscription that had been delicately worked into the metal. The Jedi Code, carefully spelled out word for word, with the name of the Jedi Master who had devoted his life to following that code placed underneath the flowing lines.

__

Alamys Jorka.

He did not remember a Jedi Master of that name. Had he died before the Clone Wars, before Anakin himself had entered the service of the Jedi Order? And if so, how had this medallion found its way to Byss, where Palpatine had kept part of numerous trophies collected in his long war against the Light? A serious question, that made him frown deeply. Deftly flipping the gold disc around, he found himself gazing at an image of the Jedi Master, impressed into the back of the medallion in astounding detail. The expression that had been frozen on Alamys Jorka's face was arrogant, or calculating, depending on how one wanted to interpret the haughty streak about his mouth, the piercing quality of his gaze, that was visible even imprinted on a mere gold coin. His hair, deftly depicted, was slightly curly and fair, and it had been cut short, exposing his lean face fully. A hard face, Anakin thought, his lips tightening. He knew that he must look much the same, after all the years of hardship he had endured. But now he was finally home, at ease. And perhaps, just perhaps, that state would last for the rest of his life. 

Heaving a tiny sigh he closed his hand around the medallion to put it back into his pocket and felt a strange warmth spread out from the metal. A feeling close to kinship seemed to connect him to the medallion, and for a moment he held his breath. With a high screech an image lanced through his mind, a cut-off scream of rage and betrayal, a brief flash of emotion that pierced his heart mercilessly. He closed his eyes, sweat beading his brow as he focused more deeply on the sensations conveyed through the medallion. The rim of the coin dug into his palm as he held it tighter, bracing himself. 

There it was again, a familiar face, with blue eyes that were icy cold despite the fury he could sense from their owner. A tall man with dark blond, graying hair and a deeply lined face, that was marred with rage and pain. A long, broad scar ran from his left eye down to his chin, slanting the corner of his mouth down. His nose seemed to have been broken numerous times during the past, and all in all he bore little resemblance to the proud man who had posed for the image imprinted on the Jedi medallion. 

With mounting dread, Anakin watched the Jedi Master rise slowly to his feet from where he had fallen on a black marble floor, cold gaze fixed on whoever was confronting him. Judging by the site where the medallion had been found, the Dark Lord had a good idea through whose eyes he was watching all this. Alamys Jorka had been dressed in plain civilian clothes in the last hours of his life, it seemed. A dust-covered black jacket, too tight, Anakin noticed, wide, dark grey pants and a long-worn belt of brown leather. Black, knee-high boots completed his attire.

"Finally we meet again," Darth Sidious said, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "It has been a long time, my friend. But at last you have come."

"Don't think I will beg for mercy, Sidious," Alamys Jorka spat, his baritone voice laced thickly with contempt and obvious strain. He had been injured, that much was clear. His scarred face twisted into a mocking smile. "Now that you have captured the last of my kind, will you triumph at last? Will you show your true face to the galaxy?"

"Alamys," the Emperor said patronizingly, "the last of your kind? You? Not at all. But I have been waiting a long time to have you in my grasp again. You have kept yourself hidden from me long enough."

A flash of pain crossed Master Jorka's face. "Whatever advantage you had hoped to gain by capturing me, you are too late," he answered, his voice thick with emotions Anakin could not begin to identify.

Sidious' tone was very dry as he challenged: "Really? Whatever makes you think so?"

Now Jorka's expression was positively triumphant. "And in the time of greatest despair there shall come a savior, and he shall be known as the Son of the Suns," he quoted slowly, deliberately. "Sounds familiar?" He was smiling, a smile at the very verge of madness. 

Anakin would have expected anything but what happened next. Amidst low chuckles of genuine amusement, Darth Sidious started clapping his hands in mock applause. "Well done," he said at last. "If you want to play a game of prophecy, why not name this one? 'The most potent instrument of balance undoubtedly is a fusion of light and dark, of dark within light and light within darkness. The dark side of the sun, and the bright, merged in a glorious fire of power.' You obviously had no time to study the Jen'da Prophecies, Alamys," he added, sounding almost sad.

The Jedi Master's face paled. "What do you mean?"

"I _know_, Alamys. I know where you have been hiding, and I know what you did in your despair. As it was foretold, as it was prophesized. The dark within light, Alamys Jorka, was you." Darth Sidious' voice dropped into a whisper as he continued. "And the light within darkness is mine already. He will teach your son when the time is right, and your son will become my tool, my creation. Such power, Alamys," he sighed in undeniable delight, "such delicious power as you have commanded! Oh, how I envied you!" Laughing out loud, the Emperor brought his hands together in a loud clap, earnest once more. "Enough of these games. Your time is running out. Yet I must thank you for your dilligent efforts in assisting my own plans. A true friend. I will always be indebted to you. And now, Alamys, I will release you from your bonds." His voice dropped to a malicious whisper. "As a friend would do for another."

The vision faded rapidly, leaving Anakin Skywalker standing stock-still in an art gallery on Bilbringi, a glass of wine in one hand, his father's Jedi medallion in the other. His father ... His mind completely blank he stood there, staring into the distance, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. He remembered what he had been told, that he was the Chosen One, that he would bring balance to the Force, that his power was unparalleled. He recalled a magical night on Nirauan, when he had accepted the burden of becoming Cor'dan amidst the galaxy's battle for survival against the Yuuzhan Vong_. You have been chosen a long time ago_, Roj Kell had told him back then, yet Anakin knew for certain that the ancient Sith had not been referring to any lousy prophecy. He had believed with all his heart in balance, it had been the essence of his own faith and that of the Sith of old. A belief that had become Anakin's own, over time. 

He looked down to find that his hand was shaking, spilling wine all over the fine carpet, but he could not quite understand why this was happening to him. He was utterly confused about a great many things. _The light within darkness is mine already_. The Heart of Darkness. Of course. Just a minor detail in Palpatine's grand plan. A single tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it away self-consciously, the cool metal of the medallion brushing his skin briefly. An image of his mother rose in his mind, unbidden, her gentle face as she had smiled at him, a reassuring smile meant to soothe a child that was leaving home forever. And later, that same face, months of pain eased by her son's presence as he had held her battered body inside that Tusken camp on Tatooine, unable to prevent her death. Had she known? She never had told him about a father, had brushed his tentative questions aside with words that had confused his young mind. 

"Ani?"

He looked at Padmé through a curtain of tears that blurred his vision and turned her face into a strange mist, as if she were vanishing too. Hurriedly, he threw his arms around her slender shoulders, holding her tight, for fear that she would somehow be torn from his embrace again, that she would turn out to be no more than a particularly painful memory. Her hands – so small – slowly ran down his back, a comforting gesture of warmth and affection. It only made him cry harder. 

"Ani, hush, don't cry. " Leaning her forehead against his chest she held him just as fiercely as he was holding her, and so they stood for a long time, entwined in understanding. 

"We need to add a fifth name to that plaque," he managed at last, voice thick with tears of sorrow for a stranger. Disengaging form her gently, he let the medallion dangle from his fingers, for her to examine. 

She stared at it, uncomprehending. Suddenly her eyes widened, those liquid brown eyes he loved so much. Looking up at him she nodded mutely, then pressed her cheek against his body once more, and again her arms locked around his waist, squeezing tightly. He rested his chin atop her head carefully, and noticed the silent crowd that had gathered to watch. 

Anakin tried a small smile as he saw the concerned faces of his children. And behind them, her blue eyes thoughtful, Yana Dar stood gazing at him earnestly. She had known, hadn't she. That was why she had brought the medallion all the way from Byss. Anakin looked down at Padmé, his smile deepening, and he caressed her cheek affectionately before he took a step back. She took the glass from his hand and nodded. Walking slowly, he made his way toward the Empress and found the twins stepping aside wordlessly to let him pass, sensing his mood. Grateful for their understanding he gave both a smile that they returned with smiles of their own. 

Then, locking blue eyes with blue, he bowed before the Empress, holding her gaze. Then her face blossomed in an expression of utmost grace and beauty. A luminous face. Straightening once more, he took her hand cautiously.

"Someone once said that a father's crimes are that of his children," he began, fighting his own emotions, that threatened to rise again. "But I find that it is a child's duty to avoid committing crimes herself, instead of atoning for those her father may have committed."

"Wise words, Lord Skywalker," she replied, her voice very soft. "Am I guilty of a crime, then?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all. And no one should dare try to make you responsible for your father's actions. You have proven that you _are_ Empress, and that you respect and value the traditions of old. I am Cor'dan," he concluded, "and I would be honored to serve you." 

She knew what he was offering. A reconciliation. A union of ideals and power that her father had impressed upon the galaxy with brute force, that could now be established willingly. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and then she smiled, raising her glass for all to see. 

"A toast," she said, her voice loud and clear. "To wisdom. To unity. To dreams. And that they may come true one day."

To be concluded


	42. Epilogue

****

The Storm

****

Epilogue 

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ...

Balance and peace have been restored after seemingly endless struggles against all odds. 

The galaxy is now harbor for several nations and alliances, that share historical, biological and financial ties: the New Republic, the Confederate Zone, the Chiss Empire, the Star Alliance and the new Sith Empire.

Over these nations the Council of Naboo stands watch, as a common institution with one common goal: continued peace and prosperity for all. Now, five years after the founding of the Council on Naboo, the veterans of the last battles have gathered on Byss, to celebrate 

a special day, and to celebrate the past, present and future together. 

A new era is dawning, and it begins with a story ....

****

*******

The boy was so nervous that he felt sick to his stomach, but he resolved not to let that show. Dressed in brown pants he absent-mindedly wriggled his toes in the cold mud underneath the soles of his bare feet, as if the rich soil could somehow ease his anxiety. In a way, it even did. His mother had told him that this was his gift, that he could become one with his surroundings, the people and plants. That he was special. He stood stock-still, eyes fixed straight ahead, to where the elders were standing in a neat row, all facing him. 

His black hair was long and worn in two braids, as befitted a boy of his age, but his entire demeanor was more that of an adult than a child of five. 

*******

"Mama, he can't have braids! Girls have braids!"

"Sh, just listen, baby. It's a tale, okay?"

"Okay."

*******

Pale green eyes gazed at the cloud-shrouded mountains up ahead with a mild curiosity that belied the nervousness he felt inside. It was a grey day, and cold. But he ignored his discomfort, concentrating on the ceremony ahead instead. Then a movement off to the left caught his attention, and he gazed over at the tall woman, who strode over to the elders with determined strides. He wanted to smile at her, but knew he would not. She was Cor'dan, and to be respected. 

His heart stung a little bit as he remembered the night before, when she had told him about his naming day. It did not happen often that she allowed him to be close, and when she did, it was always a very special occasion. Like yesterday. They had sat together, wrapped in a fine woolen blanket, and his mother had made him look into the flames of the open hearth while she spoke, creating a world of magic with only the sound of her voice and her presence. The small hut had been filled with live shadows, and he had been just a little bit frightened. But just a bit. Then he had been curious, wondering what his new name would be. 

The Naming Ceremony marked him an adult, and it meant that he would be given greater responsibilities and that his studies would be intensified. Given what hopes his mother and the elders set in him, that meant hard work. But he was used to hardship. The mountains and swamps of Os'jen'thana were untamed, and his people had always respected that wilderness. They did not seek to change one single thing, they rather worked around what obstacles presented themselves or else adapted to their surroundings. From time to time off-worlders would come to hunt in the plains, but they never bothered the Jen-People. And the Jen themselves kept a safe distance.

"Liyuma!" a voice called to him softly, and he turned his head tentatively to face the owner of that voice. He smiled up at his father as he came over to him. "Feeling okay, son?" Roughing up Liyuma's thick hair, his father laughed when the boy glared up at him angrily. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, heavier set than the other men, but then, his father was an off-worlder from the distant planet Alderaan. He had dark brown hair, cut traditionally short, and green eyes that always seemed a bit distant, almost sad. "Don't let all that ceremonial pomp get you down," his father continued. "It's only a name, after all."

"You should not call me that," the boy whispered fiercely.

"What?" Father cocked his eyebrows. "Are you not my son?"

"No, the – other." Today he had no name, until he got his new one. He gave the older man a pleading glare, silently begging him not to spoil the ceremony by breaking custom. His father loved to break traditions, especially since they were not his own. As a result the elders did not like him very much for that.

Father dropped down on his haunches next to him. "Nervous?" The boy nodded hesitantly. "I understand. But it'll pass, you'll see." Liyuma gave him a tiny smile. He liked his father very much, no matter what the elders thought. "Now, be a big boy and go over there. I think they're getting impatient," Father added with a wink, then rose again to withdraw to the circle of people that surrounded the boy, who stood alone in its midst, facing the elders and the Cor'dan. 

The boy swallowed down a lump of fear, waiting to be called forward. When the signal came, a mere nod given by the leader of the elders, the thick clouds overhead started pouring hard rain down upon the assembly. Closing his eyes in shame for a moment, Liyuma trotted over to come to a halt in front of the elders. Cold water ran through his hair, clung to his lashes. He shivered. Then a calloused hand slipped underneath his chin, raising it up, so he was forced to look at the elders. He risked a glance over at the Cor'dan, but her pale eyes were cold and distant. Like Father's. Liyuma's heart sank a little further.

"We have assembled today to bring a new spirit into this world," the elder began, his old voice cracking. "Who will speak for the nameless?"

"I will!" It was his father, of course, who splashed through the cold, wet mud to join the boy in front of the elders. "I am his spirit-guide." Laying reassuring hands on the boy's shoulders, he stood very still, waiting for the elder to continue. 

"The elders recognize the spirit-guide. But we must verify his intentions." He took a step back to make room for the Cor'dan. 

The boy knew what this part of the ceremony entailed, and he tensed in anticipation. To make certain that the spirit admitted into the world was not a bad one, the elders had to find out whether the intentions of the spirit's guide were good. The Cor'dan, her long, black hair hanging in a thick, wet curtain over her slender shoulders, lay a hand over Father's face. The boy could feel the energy tingling through the older man's body, could feel it reach for him too, and for a moment he wanted to cry out, because it was so painful, as if a part of his soul had been ripped away. Then the sensation vanished abruptly, and the boy took a deep breath.

"The spirits recognize this one," the Cor'dan declared, "and mark him their own. He is allowed to proceed."

The elders nodded, and one of them produced a small cloak. The leather had been cut very thin, so it was not heavy when Father lay it around the boy's shoulders, and it gave a little protection against the rain. Then another elder made the sign of acquiesance over the boy's head and gave him into the Cor'dan's custody, along with his guide. 

The three of them turned away from the village, toward the edge of the forest, where a small hut had been prepared for the occasion. Slipping inside after the Cor'dan, the boy almost smiled at the warmth that greeted him inside the small dwelling. A fire was burning in its middle, and sweet smoke filled the air, making him drowsy. It was so comfortable that he wanted to go to sleep right away. A rare smile appeared on the Cor'dan's face as she picked up on his thoughts, and he blushed furiously. He sat down hurriedly on his assigned place, opposite from her, and looked at her across the fire. She was very beautiful, he thought, and she looked very regal too. But her expression turned earnest again very quickly.

"I can see you," she declared solemnly. "And the path you will take." A pained look crossed her eyes, frightening him a little bit. She continued, her voice softer. "You will be named for the past and the future. For what you are and will be. Now, repeat what I say." She waited for him to give a nod, then proceeded. "Life is balance, and balance is death." Mumbling the words after her, he felt very clumsy all of a sudden, and he concentrated hard not to forget a single word. "Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the Jen-People, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the Jen-People, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in my heart, as I become one with the Jen-People."

He repeated the words quietly, hanging on to her lips in fascination, and he thought he could feel something then, as if he could feel the earth and the sky in the shadows writhing across the walls of the tiny hut. When the Cor'dan spoke again her voice was different, coming at him from all sides at once. Hunching his shoulders, he did not dare look at her. "You are named for what was, and named for what will be. Always be true to your name. Always." 

*******

"And that's the end."

The little girl looked up at her mother with huge eyes. "So, what's his name?" she asked petulantly, feeling somehow deceived. 

Smiling down at her, Mama pressed a kiss on her forehead and shut down the holocube she had been reading from. "Tomorrow," she said.

"Mama!" the girl began, but her protests were buried in a hug.

"Tomorrow, my little morning star. It's your naming day."

*******

****

"Jolene!" The girl's head whipped around at the sound of her father's voice. A smile appeared on her round face as he came around the corner, searching. "There you are." Dropping to his knees in front of her, he hugged her carefully, so as not to disturb the exquisitely starched folds of her white dress. "We are all waiting for you, darling." His grey eyes held a warm fire that made Jolene's smile even fiercer. "You look so pretty today," he added and kissed her cheek. 

"As pretty as Mama?" she asked sincerely, and he laughed. 

"Close, my little star. Close. Come. Let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Jolene grabbed the offered hand and let her father lead the way. She thought he looked grand in his black uniform with the purple stripes at the cuffs. She liked the way he walked, slow and measured, and the way his eyes studied everything with utmost attention. Pride filled her small heart to bursting, because her father was someone very special and people were always very nice around him. They were not so nice around Mama, but Mama always acted very cool when she was not with her little daughter. And Jolene was not allowed to run over and hug her when other people were with her either. It made Jolene sad, sometimes, because she liked to hug her mother very much. 

"Wanna be carried!" she said suddenly, tugging at her father's hand impatiently to emphasize her demand. 

He stopped and gazed down at her earnestly. "Jolene, don't be a baby. It is your naming day, after all. You are a big girl now."

A frown appeared on her innocent forehead. She did not want to be a big girl. She was afraid that being a big girl meant that Mama would not want to be hugged by her at all. Directing a concerned glance up at Papa she shuffled closer to him and hugged his legs. "Don't wanna," she whispered.

He ran a hand over her blonde curls gently, then bent down to pick her up and hold her in his arms. "Listen, little one, you do not have to be afraid. Nothing there will scare you, and you know everyone who's there."

"Hm-hm," she nodded, not really buying it, and started tracing the scars on his face with a pudgy finger. 

"You do believe me, don't you, darling?"

Jolene gave Papa a helpless smile. "Yes, Papa," she breathed. 

"Okay. Think you can make it to the hall on your own?"

Again a nod and she was put down on the floor again. Trotting after her father, Jolene made faces at his back. She did not like it at all. But then they were already there and the big doors to the big hall opened all by themselves. Papa went ahead without making sure she was following, and Jolene slipped behind one of the doors, hiding. 

She was giggling with mischief when Papa theatrically exclaimed: "Oh no! My little star is gone!" 

There was laughter from the hall, and a man said: "I'm sure we'll find her soon enough, Franzis."

Closing her eyes, Jolene giggled even harder, when she heard someone walk toward the doors, and then a shadow blotted out the light. 

"Look what we have here," the man said, laughter in his voice, and Jolene rolled her eyes at him as he sat there on his haunches, grinning at her. 

"How'd you find me?" she asked, when he extended his arms and she darted into his embrace, letting him carry her into the hall.

He dubbed her nose and raised his eyebrows funnily. "That's a secret," he told her. He had blue eyes like Mama, and no hair on his head, and scars like Papa, but he was much taller than Papa, and people always treated him very nicely. He was Cor'dan, after all. "Look, there's you mother."

Squirming in his grasp Jolene fought to get down on the floor. She ran toward Mama, squealing, little arms spread out in what she thought would be the biggest hug ever. Mama looked so pretty, in her black dress and with the sparkling stars in her golden hair. Her blue eyes were sparkling too as she looked down at Jolene. But she did not bend down to embrace her, like Papa had. So Jolene buried her face in the thick velvet skirts of Mama's dress and held on fiercely, small hands tightened into fists. 

"Won't you say hello to our guests?" Mama asked in her official voice, that was warm, kinda, but also distant. Looking up at her, Jolene pouted, then shook her head. "Darling, be a big girl," Mama said. 

"No!" Jolene stuck her tongue out and ran away. But someone snatched her up and started tickling her mercilessly. Jolene screamed: "No-no-no-no-no!"

"Say hello," her captor teased her. "Say hello, or I'll tickle you 'til you burst!"

"Hello, Uncle Jix!" Jolene crowed, delighted. He whirled her through the air and caught her again, then pointed her face-first at the red-haired woman, who wore a huge laugh on her face. 

"Say hello to Aunt Mara, Jolene," he ordered, but the little girl shook her head in denial, and continued squealing harder. 

"Stop this, Jolene, or you'll hurt yourself," Mama said mildly, and Jix put her down instantly. Suddenly sober again, Jolene gave her mother an accusing glare, then stalked off toward the table by the window and scrambled up a chair to sit down. While the grown-ups talked, she was humming to herself idly and looked out of the window, kicking her legs.

"Are we all there?" Mama asked suddenly, sounding weary. "Good. Jolene!" she called, and the girl turned her head to look at her. "Come. The others are waiting."

Hopping off her perch, Jolene ran for the big doors, and side-stepped Mama when she tried to grab her hand. Instead Jolene caught up with Papa and held his hand. Papa looked at her, then back at Mama, and shrugged. Then they went into the other hall with the throne – the _throne_-room – and Papa made her wait a bit, while Mama went ahead to take a seat on the big black chair. Jolene made another face. There were many people assembled in the hall, and she knew most of them. She shied away a bit as Papa led her past Administrator Elu Cha and his entourage, frightened a bit by the Yuuzhan Vong's fierce expression. But luckily they were past quickly, and she exhaled softly, a smile already creeping back on her face.

There was Chi'in, who was always so earnest, and Andarack, who never said anything at all. Jolene thought they looked very funny. Next to them stood Naas Deron, who winked at her. Jolene giggled at that. Then there were Uncle Luke and Nuron, who did not want to be an aunt. Nuron's eyes were golden and she had the most beautiful skin color, like cinnamon. And horns. Jolene wanted to have horns like that too, but Mama said that was not possible. Jolene thought that was unfair. But then she saw Aunt Leia, and Jacey and Jaina were with her! Jolene wanted to make a dash for the twins, who waved at her, both beaming, but Papa did not let her. He held on tightly. 

"Jolene, behave yourself," he whispered. "Mama will be very proud if you are a good girl today."

Glumly, Jolene gave a nod. Suddenly there was a rustle by her side and Padmé knelt down next to her, dressed in a pretty lilac dress. Padmé was Leia's mama and very pretty. She had once been a queen. Mama was an empress, which was higher than a queen, But Padmé was nice, nicer than Mama! 

"Hey, little one. Don't make such a fierce face. You look like a Hutt," Padmé said softly. "Here. I have brought something for the pretty little star." Holding up her hand she let a small gold chain dangle between her fingers, with a yellow stone hanging from it. 

"Oh!" Jolene grabbed at the stone, and Padmé laughed. 

"Here, let me," she murmured, and nestled the chain into the girl's curls, so that the stone lay cool against her forehead. "Now you look like a little princess. Very pretty." 

"Thank you!" Jolene breathed, raising her hand to finger the stone. "Thank you!"

Suddenly everyone was very silent, and Padmé stood up again. Peeking around the former queen's lilac skirts, Jolene stared wide-eyed at the big door that was opening as she watched. Everyone was looking at the door! Her eyes widened even more when the Cor'dan stepped into the room, now wearing long black robes, and holding a long staff in his hand, that was carved with many strange symbols. He did not laugh when he looked at Jolene this time, and his scars suddenly looked very menacing, not like Papa at all. When he walked past her, Jolene pressed her back against Papa's legs for support. But then the Cor'dan winked at her, and she gave a little giggle that turned into a hiccup. Embarrassed, she turned away, clapping a hand over her mouth, and gave Papa a startled look, but he only smiled at her. 

Then someone stubbed the small of her back and said: "Boo!"

Jolene yelped in surprise, then darted around Papa's legs to glare at Uncle Jix from a safe distance. The Corellian was grinning hard. 

"Easily scared, that little toad. Gotta improve your reflexes too," he declared. Jolene stuck her tongue out at him. 

"Come, Jolene," Papa said. "It is time."

Suddenly Jolene felt like the little boy in the story, Liyuma, and she dragged her feet when Papa gently maneuvered her toward the throne, where Mama sat. She felt very sick. But then Mama smiled at her, a bright smile, and Jolene knew that Mama loved her very much. Now her father almost had to restrain her so she would not run ahead. Finally falling in step with him, Jolene felt grand, as she walked down the aisle toward the throne. Everyone was smiling at her, and she could feel that everyone was happy. Jacey and Jaina waved at her as she passed, and it was all she could do not to run over and hug her friends for the sheer joy of it. She caught Nuron's glance, and the tall woman's smile made her proud. Holding her head high, she walked at her father's side up to where the Cor'dan was standing at the stairs that led up to the throne. 

"We have assembled today to welcome a new spirit into this world," he said, and smiled, as if remembering something, and Jolene wondered whether Mama had told him the story too. "Who will speak for her?"

"I will," Papa declared and squeezed Jolene's shoulders reassuringly. She pressed her back against his legs, the way she loved to do, and gazed up at the Cor'dan with wonder.

"We recognize you, and we accept your charge," the Cor'dan said calmly. Jolene frowned. That was different from the story. But then he turned cool blue eyes on her, and she tried to withdraw further. "I can see you," he said, "and the path you will take. You will be named for the past and the future. For what you are and will be. Now, repeat what I say." He smiled down at Jolene and she nodded hurriedly. She knew the words already, but still she frowned fiercely, concentrating. "Life is balance, and balance is death. Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the living, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the living, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in my heart, as I become one with the living." 

Once she had also finished, he put a hand on her head lightly, and Jolene closed her eyes, hardly able to breathe with excitement. Now she would get her new name! 

"You are named for the past, for the light you have brought into your parents' lives. And you are named for the future for the guiding light you will be to those who will follow behind." 

Looking down at her, he smiled mischievously, while she was practically hopping from one foot to the other with impatience. 

"Luzaya Dan, " he breathed, "this is the name that you will carry for the rest of your life. Be true to it. You are welcome to the world of the living." He bowed toward her regally.

"Pretty," she whispered under her breath, eyes wide with wonder, then hurriedly bowed too. 

Then Mama rose from her throne and gave her a proud smile. "You are welcome, Luzaya Dan, and forever part of our community. We will shelter you, protect you and guide you, until you find your calling in becoming one with what you were named for, life and darkness. In time, we will teach you about both," she concluded and some people in the crowd laughed softly. Luzaya did not mind at all. She felt very proud. "And now," Mama said at last, "we shall celebrate."

The formal part of the naming over, Luzaya could not wait for Mama to leave the dais and join her and Papa. When she did, she knelt down immediately in front of her daughter, the skirt of her black dress enfolding Luzaya whole, and hugged her tight. "Such a beautiful name," she whispered and kissed the girl's cheek. "A spark of life in the dark, that you truly were," she added and looked up to gaze at Papa lovingly. Luzaya watched them both intently, then snuggled into Mama's embrace, demanding her full attention. "And you were such a good girl too," Mama said. "I am very proud of you, my little morning star."

"Can I have the end of the story?" Luzaya asked into her mother's dress, barely audible.

"Of course." Mama nodded. "Liyuma was named for enduring wisdom, and he made his parents very proud."

"So he lived long and happily?" the little girl pressed on, knowing that no story could end without that tell-tale phrase. It always prompted her to imagine the greatest adventures for the heroes. But Mama did not answer for a while. When she did, she smiled down at Luzaya and laughed. 

"Yes, my darling. He had a long life, a very long life, and I am sure he was happy too. At least I hope he was," she added very softly. Then she straightened from her crouch, carrying Luzaya in her arms. "Let's go. The others have all gone ahead." 

As she was carried away, Luzaya was smiling absent-mindedly. In front of her inner eye her imagination spun a grand tale of a wise little boy – with black hair that he wore in funny braids, and green eyes that sparkled when he laughed – who vanquished many a foe and made his parents very proud. Just as she would.

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The End


	43. Author's Last Ramblings

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Author's Last Ramblings:

I confess that Luzaya Dan's approach to stories reflects my own. And that attitude, I suppose, makes us fanfic writers do what we do. My first encounter with Star Wars was through my father, who worked for the publishing house that published the Star Wars comic books here in Germany in the eighties. He must have brought home the entire collection for us, and I remember myself and my twin sister spinning those stories further with greatest enjoyment. And, strangely enough, the character that is now my favourite did not even register with me back then. When I was six or seven years old my favourite was Lando Calrissian, actually, and only in 1997, when German TV aired the Classic Trilogy before the Special Edition came out in the movie theaters, did I really take notice of Darth Vader. 

Since then I've been pretty obsessed with the character of Anakin Skywalker. 

We all know the stories about how George Lucas developed the character, the mythical origins of both the name and the significance of the Chosen One. But, put bluntly, I do not believe in prophecy myself. Perhaps you will now be asking yourselves why _The Storm_ features not only the prophecy of the Chosen One (My thanks goes to the University of Aldera for supplying me with the exact wording used in The Storm), but also the Jen'da Prophecies, the latter made up by myself, admittedly. But if you have followed the prequels of _The Storm_ – from _Backlash_ over _Soul of Fire – Heart of Ice_ up to _The Art of War_ – you will understand that the events that take place in _The Storm_ have been predestined not by prophecy, but by certain events in the past. All strings lead not to Roj Kell, but Darth Sidious, who realizes the possibilities lined out by - yes - prophecy and – ultimately – by history. 

It began with Exar Kun and Roj Kell in _Ancient History_, and here certain happenings were set into motion that would make themselves known only much later. One of those happenings was the creation of Project Zero A and Project Zero B. I realize that I am probably way off the mark concerning the 'official' history of the Yuuzhan Vong – and the creative minds over at Lucasfilm may forgive me for that – but I followed some clues scattered throughout the Expanded Universe that I interpreted the way I saw fit. 

One of them was Corran Horn's vision of the Yuuzhan Vong invaders in _I, Jedi_ when he gazes into the obsidian crystal set into the Blueleaf Temple on Yavin 4, Exar Kun's seat of power. And we all know Exar Kun continued Naga Sadow's experiments on the Massassi. If we remain on Yavin 4 we will find an adventure in the classic comic books, where Luke faces the night beast, a guardian left behind by Yavin 4's original inhabitants when they fled to avoid a devastating war. The Jedi armies descending upon Exar Kun's fortress? Another clue, of course, was Threepio's comment on the Yuuzhan Vong language, which he traces to a planet named Janguine. All this, and more clues I found in the New Jedi Order novels, made me come up with an alternate history of the Yuuzhan Vong race that would connect the Sith, or in this case their Massassi slaves, to them. I should add here that the last NJO novel I read was _Rebel Dream_.

Then the intermediate Backlash stories – _Revenge of the Sith,_ _Generations, The Shadow and the Light_, _Seed of Darkness_ and _The Road to Wisdom_ – plus the respective Interludes, tied _Ancient History_ into the story arc that would eventually lead to _The Art of War_ and its sequel, _The Storm_.

The Backlash stories focus on Exar Kun's student, Roj Kell, a somewhat fanatic warrior-priest and Sith magician. Roj Kell is a unique being, chosen by the Force to be the Heart of Darkness, whose ultimate goal is balance, and whose power is balance. That connection to the Force allows him to survive for over three thousand years, a long time, during which he spreads his philosophy even to the Jedi Order. I have described that character at length in the comments to _The Art of War_ and will refrain from repeating myself. More interesting in regards to _The Storm_, perhaps, are the Jedi that cross Roj Kell's path over the course of time. 

Belana Jen, the first, becomes his lover eventually, and it is with her that he ultimately finds his own peace. In a way she inspired him with her understanding and kindness, an influence that takes effect only millennia after her death. The second is Hagen Dycos, an idealistic Jedi Knight who grows from scholar to guardian, and becomes Kell's only friend. He, too, sows his own seeds to be carried into the next millennium by Roj Kell. Through Dycos' liberal-mindedness and the works of his apprentice, Kane Jinn, ancestor of Qui-Gon Jinn, the principle of what many fans call the Grey Side of the Force, seeps into the Jedi Order. A meeting with the Jedi Master Yoda, during which the Jedi fails to realize Kell's true influence on events, makes it possible for Darth Sidious to gain access to an ancient prophecy and make it happen. The other tool used in that endeavor is the Jedi Master Alamys Jorka, Anakin's father. 

As I said, I don't believe in prophecy and I don't believe human beings can be conceived by some mysterious, insubstantial Force. I know it's not truly insubstantial, but you know what I mean. And I didn't want to spin a trashy – my apologies to all writers who used it, I do not want to belittle their work here – plotline that would see Anakin as Palpatine's son. It took me a sweet long time to come up with what I have now. Since I based this entire story arc on Roj Kell's quest for perfect balance, the solution had to be balance again. _The Art of War_, and _The Storm_ even more so, made it clear, or so I hope, that Kell is not comparable to Darth Sidious, in no way. He is a guardian of life and death, a religious leader and philosopher much more than a strategist, even though his schemes are legendary. He is the Heart of Darkness, the light wthin dark, and here he can be compared to the character of Darth Vader. For inside the darkness that is Darth Vader there is another man – Anakin Skywalker, who was once a very selfless, caring individual, as we learned _in Episode One – The Phantom Menace_. Now. I also don't really want to separate the characters of Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker. They are one. 

Therefore I had to find someone to complement Roj Kell, to be the dark within the light. What I used here was Mace Windu's comment in _Episode Two – Attack of the Clones_. He claims somewhere that the Dark Side is growing stronger, weakening the Jedi. I wondered how that could be possible. Which led to my inventing the Motha Virus and, of course, Alamys Jorka. Alamys is what Anakin never was, a Jedi devoted to the strict moral code of the Order. If there is an epitome of the light as defined by the Jedi Order's guidelines it is Alamys Jorka. What greater irony than to turn this man into an unwilling tool of darkness? He is turning to the Dark Side against his will, and he finds himself unable to cope with his fate. In a last attempt to prevent the Force from being infected by the Motha Virus itself – a threat he takes to be very real, but that, according to the philosophy permeating this alternate universe is really impossible – Alamys creates a weapon against that darkness. A son, born to an 'unsuspecting' mother in an act of mystery and - inevitably – violence. Yet there is no way back for Master Jorka, the only escape he can hope for is death. It is the same justification that will serve Darth Vader for long years, which prompts his father to take these steps. What Alamys does not know, of course, is that Darth Sidious counted on this to happen, and that the Sith Master has laid his hands not only on the Jen'da Prophecies, but also on the vast reservoir of knowledge that is Roj Kell's memory. 

I can safely claim that the birth of Anakin Skywalker was probably not strictly necessary for Sidious' rise to ultimate power, but that is not the point. The point is belief. Backlash features numerous discussions between Roj Kell and his respective Jedi counterparts that deal with the aspects of light and dark, justice, the rules of civilization versus the rules of survival and so on. And always the difference is a matter of one's belief. Darth Sidious believes in the power of prophecies over others, especially the Jedi and subsequently Alamys Jorka, who is a great believer in prophecy. Sidious plays on fears, justified or not, to turn the Republic into a war zone, he uses a young man's innocence for his own ends. Does it matter whether the prophecies are for real? No. Sidious may counter Alamys Jorka's arguments with another prophecy before he eventually kills the Jedi Master, but is it the prophecy that is important, or the coincidence that puts Alamys Jorka's power in the Force at Sidious' fingertips in the shape of his son? Again, the prophecy is just a tool, a truth first observed by Roj Kell in a lecture on the subject given to his errant student, Sidious. The cycle is complete when Sidious realizes what his chosen mentor has taught him, and turns those teachings against Kell himself. This is another aspect of Sidious' brilliance. After his first master's accidential death in _Seed of Darkness_ he does not triumph and go on to be master himself, no, he _deliberately_ seeks out another mentor, and a very special one at that.

As I have stated before, all strings ultimately lead to Sidious. 

Then why does he fail in the end? Hm?

The truth is many things, but seldom clear. The classic Star Wars line of 'Your focus determines your reality' or that 'certain point of view' sum that up nicely. What Sidious seriously underestimates in this story is the courage to not use the shards of the broken glass to restore the mirror – an endeavor that will inevitably lead to a skewd perspective – but to create something new, a new image. The entire Star Wars saga is a saga of choices that need to be made, which is all life is about. This alternate story arc is no different. The choices made by the respective characters, minor or major, carry events further. In _The Art of War _Grand Admiral Thrawn was the wild card that blunted the Emperor's plans, and Roj Kell who blocked both Thrawn and Darth Vader effectively. Yet Sidious' scheme survived. 

In _The Storm_ the choices Sidious leaves the galaxy are outlined by the Seeker, but it falls to Yana Dar and Anakin Skywalker to make something different of their given situation. Yana, heir to her father's tyrannic rule and burdened by his deeds, has the courage to found a new Sith Empire, to redeem ancient history and tie it in with something new. She finds forgiveness and compassion for the Yuuzhan Vong where others would as soon have destroyed them without second thoughts, something the galaxy might even expect of the Sith. Yet Yana does not deliver on prejudices. And Anakin Skywalker, himself laden with guilt and mistakes, manages to don the mantle of Cor'dan, the Heart of Darkness, to make exactly that happen, and he assumes the role of guardian willingly to ensure the future of this arrangement. In that he extends his hand to Yana Dar in reconciliation of the past of both Sith and Jedi. Together they find a true union between light and dark. 

Well, perhaps I need to correct myself. Even though all strings lead to Darth Sidious, it is Roj Kell who cuts and reties quite a few. The most obvious reminder of that, I think, is his last conversation with Anakin on Laa'kuan. It is no coincidence that the translation of that world's name is Prayer. It all comes down to one's own belief, be it of social, political or religious nature. As Kell tells Anakin at the end of _The Art of War_, the Force can never be imbalanced, so the prophecy in itself is being misinterpreted, both by Sidious and the Jedi. For Kell's own plans the prophecy is totally irrelevant, all he wants is for Anakin to continue his life's work. Roj Kell has never met Alamys Jorka, all he knows about Anakin being the Chosen One comes courtesy of Darth Sidious, and the ancient Sith's own belief and knowledge. But ultimately he chooses Anakin regardless of prophecy. Does that mean that the sacrifice Anakin's father made was in vain? 

I would say it was not. He did play into Sidious' hands, yes, and ultimately his actions led to the Jedi's destruction. But at the same time they also led to a new beginning, as shown in _The Storm_'s conclusion. The uncertainty of life, that people seek to control by prophecy has thus prevailed, and with it Roj Kell's own view of life. _There is order in chaos_, he tells Sidious at the beginning of _The Art of War_, when the younger Sith tries to understand the chaos inside Kell's mind. It is Anakin Skywalker who accepts that truth, who is courageous and adept enough to challenge both Sidious and Kell in _The Art of War_. Inevitably he becomes Roj Kell's successor, not the tool of darkness Sidious craved. 

The motivator for that choice, as we all know, is love. And so love plays a major role amidst the intricate schemes and counter-schemes that define the games played by the major characters. It may not save Belana Jen from her lover, but her love will triumph in the end too, just as it does at the finale of _The Art of War_, when Anakin and his long-lost wife find each other once more. _In The Storm_ Luke and Leia deepen their relationship to their respective soul-mates, and even Yana Dar finds someone to love again. Again there is a difference between generations, with Alamys Jorka and Roj Kell both rejecting fatherhood and forfeiting love to pursue their respective dreams, whereas Anakin and family come to cherish love and trust it once more. Of course, Chapter 40 of _The Storm_ hints at a possible reunion between Anakin and his father, and we might imagine a similar reunion to take place between Roj Kell and Irek. In fact, my beta Red suggested that Irek becomes attached to his father and follows him around asking questions all the time, annoying Kell no end. I admit I really liked that image.

I really am a sucker for happy endings.

So, whose story is this saga? That of Roj Kell or that of Anakin Skywalker? I very humbly hope that this has become more to you than just a story tied to some character, the way I experienced it myself. And with those words I would like to close, inviting you to spin the story further. 

Djuva

djuva@yahoo.com


	44. Character Biographies

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The Art of War

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The Skywalker Family

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Anakin Skywalker

Homeworld: Tatooine

Species. Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.85 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber, The Force, Manipulation and Deception

Vehicle: Anything that is fast and flies

Affiliation: Sith Empire

References: The Art of War, The Storm

Born to Shmi Skywalker he was a slave on Tatooine until his ninth year. But Anakin Skywalker went a long way. Freed from slavery by the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn Anakin trained under Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi after Jinn's death at the hands of Darth Maul, and became a Jedi Knight just at the eve of the Clone Wars. Ever since he had met her as a nine-year-old it was Anakin's firm belief that he was destined to marry the former Queen of Naboo, Padmé Naberrie, and he was overjoyed when she answered his feelings when they met again ten years later. Their marriage though was overshadowed by Anakin's paranoia. The young Jedi Knight rightfully suspected Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, fomerly Senator of Naboo, of planning a coup. In a foolish gamble Anakin Skywalker challenged the Chancellor and took a deep fall into darkness. Now known as Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, Skywalker was caught in a tight net that obscured his vision. Dark times fell over the galaxy. Only two decades later, by sheer chance, did the light manage to reach him once more. But in that long struggle he managed to redeem everything he had lost, including his father's name. Now Anakin Skywalker, son of Shmi Skywalker and Alamys Jorka, has assumed the role of guardian, as Cor'dan, and serves the Sith Empress Yana Dar and everyone else who may catch his attention.

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Padmé Naberrie

Homeworld: Naboo

Species. Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.65 meters

Weapon: Blaster, Diplomacy

Vehicle: Royal Starship, Millennium Falcon, X-Wing

Affiliation: Council of Naboo

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

One of the brightest of Naboo Padmé Naberrie was elected administrator of Naboo's capital Theed at the tender age of twelve. Two years later she became Queen Amidala, ruler of the Naboo citizens. Her young career was challenged very soon by the Trade Federation's occupation of her planet. But her diplomatic and strategic skills, along with adept allies, helped her to master that crisis with bravado. A decade later, in a time of relative peace, Padmé Naberrie had reliquished her seat to Queen Jamillia and served her people in the Galactic Senate. And found that a dear friend had grown up and turned into more than a friend. Although five years his senior Padmé patiently educated her husband, Anakin Skywalker, in the ways of politics, and unknowingly unleashed a destructive storm that would devour almost the entire Jedi Order. Two decades later, after years of hiding and always on the run, Padmé found her family again and she is now head of the Council of Naboo.

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Luke Skywalker

Homeworld: Tatooine

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.77 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber, Good Faith

Vehicle: Morning Glory

Affiliation: Council of Naboo

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

Raised by Anakin's step-brother, Owen Lars, and his wife, Beru, on Tatooine, Luke inherited his father's love for mechanics and his piloting skills. Grown into a kind and caring young man he lost his step-parents to the Empire and swore revenge on the perpetrators. Under the careful, but alas very brief, guidance of Obi-Wan Kenobi he made his first lessons in serving the Force. Shortly after the battle of Yavin 4 Luke started training under the Jedi Master Yoda on Dagobah, where he also met his father, although at that time he did not know him to be just that. A short while later the young Jedi, still fueled by vengeful thoughts, challenged Darth Vader to a fateful duel, in whose wake he learned the truth about his parentage. Since then he has grown into a more mature personality, and a true Jedi. Having faced his trials he has found peace and love for himself, and come to a greater understanding of the Force. Like his mother, he serves the Council of Naboo.

Nuron Sarin

Homeworld: Myrrk

Species: Zabrak

Gender: Female

Height: 1.71 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: Morning Glory

Affiliation: Sith Empire

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

The niece of Khameir Sarin always was a bit wild. Orphaned on the planet Myrk she had to fend for herself very early in her life. It was here that she met the Dark Lord of the Sith at the tender age of ten standard years. Darth Vader, as well as Chi'in, were impressed by the little Zabrak girl's resolve, and the Sith decided to take her with them to Korriban. Since Chi'n was burdened with other duties the Dark Lord declared Nuron to be his own apprentice. Yet lack of time on his part resulted in lack of training on hers. Bereft of a mentor Nuron tried to teach herself, in watching the others and taking advice from the eldest of the Council. A combination that almost proved fatal. Luckily she had a guardian spirit in the shape of Chi'in. Now she has found her true love in Luke Skywalker, and they live together on either Byss or Naboo, depending on each other's respective assignments, since Nuron has retained her ties to the Sith, whereas Luke has chosen to assume a more neutral position.

Princess Leia Organa

Homeworld: Alderaan

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.50 meters

Weapon: Blaster, Diplomacy

Vehicle: Millennium Falcon

Affiliation: New Republic

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

The Princess was the only child of her foster-parents, Viceroy Bail Organa and Saché Organa, of Alderaan. Her diplomatic skills were acquired in a life-time of studying protocol and politics, and that training served her very well when she fell into enemy hands on a secluded planet. Faced with her greatest enemy, Darth Vader, she has learned that some things are not as bad as they seem, including the Dark Lord. She was the first to learn of Vader's grand scheme in bringing the Emperor down, and she took that challenge in a stride. Assisting the traitorous Imperial forces Leia learned the truth about Darth Vader and accepted it. As her relationship to her father deepened she grew into a very capable leader. But that is not all that life has in store for her. After the storm that has ravaged the Unknown Regions upon the Yuuzhan Vong's invasion, she his now married to Captain Han Solo and is the happy mother of twins. She continues to serve the New Republic as Minister of State.

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Han Solo

Homeworld: Corellia

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.80 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: Millennium Falcon

Affiliation: New Republic

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

Han started out as a mercenary for the Alliance, but someone realized that there is indeed a heart of gold underneath that scruffy exterior. He had never any trouble admitting to his love for Princess Leia, and when that love was challenged he fought for it as valiantly as he fought for the Alliance. Together with his friend and co-pilot, the Wookiee Chewbacca, Han Solo was one of the most valuable assets in Vader's scheme. After the war against the Empire, he has worked for the Dark Lord on some assignments, but his true loyalty was to the princess, whom he has married recently. 

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Alamys Jorka

Homeworl: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.9 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: Jedi Starfighter

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash, The Storm 

The Jedi Master Alamys Jorka was among the most powerful of his generation. He was reknowned for his strict interpretation of the Jedi Code and his devotion to the Jedi Order. A master swordsman and skilled tactician, he restlessly followed the Code's directive of acquiring knowledge. One of his last discoveries was the grave of Inyo Di'vitt, creator of the Motha Virus. This discovery sealed his fate. He was tracked down by Darth Nexus and his student Darth Sidious, and captured. After having been deliberately infected with the virus by the Sith, Alamys Jorka wandered the galaxy in search of a remedy. On Ylesia he met a young woman named Shmi Skywalker and left her brain-washed and pregnant with his son, Anakin. Alamys Jorka was captured and killed by Darth Sidious shortly after the Sith Lord's rise to Emperor.

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Close Friends of the Family

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Wrenga Jixton

Homeworld: Corellia

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.74 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: Speeder bike

Affiliation: Sith Empire

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

Formerly a combat trainer and Gunnery Sergeant this Corellian has an almost legendary reputation, which is actually extremely well founded. Making the impossible happen is his hallmark. Jixton, called Jix by his friends, lost his belief in the Empire early on and refused to assist in the massacre of innocents. He was imprisoned on Kessel, awaiting a court martial, but managed to escape. While hiding from his hunters on the planet Aridus he met up with the Dark Lord of the Sith, who had been caught in the backlash of a trap he had set for his son, Luke Skywalker. To protect the natives of Aridus Jix agreed to serve as the Dark Lord's agent, and over time he has grown quite fond of his employer, to Darth Vader's great annoyance. During the war against the Yuuzhan Vong he has found another victim to annoy, to Anakin Skywalker's relief. The Corellian is now official special ambassador to the Chiss Court on Csilla and a dear friend of the Chiss Emperor Ja'han'mandana, who enjoys the Corellian's wits as much as Anakin Skywalker ever did. 

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Mara Jade

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.70 meters

Weapon: BlasTech

Vehicle: Whatever is available

Affiliation: Sith Empire

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

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Mara Jade was found at a very early age by the Emperor and raised to become his Hand. As the Emperor's agent Mara had a great insight into the Empire, but she did not realize that her master's caring for her was as false as the promises he had made to the people. When the Dark Lord of the Sith chose to betray the Emperor Mara was forced to choose her side of the struggle. In the end she learned more about herself and the galaxy than she had ever thought possible under Palpatine's tutelage, and her mentor in that learning process was no other than Grand Admiral Thrawn. And, admittedly, a very special Corellian. 

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Chi'in clan Rim'kai

Homeworld: Honoghr

Species: Noghri

Gender: Male

Height: 1.40 meters

Weapon: The Force, Combat Skills

Vehicle: Ardana Ver

Affiliation: Sith Empire, Noghri

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

When Darth Vader was initiated as the Dark Lord of the Sith the Noghri warrior Chi'in became his apprentice. Gradually they formed a deep friendship, and that friendship saved the Dark Lord's life on several occasions. Over time Chi'in grew into a most adept Force-user, and when Darth Vader was forced to concentrate all of his strength on battling the growing rebellion, the Noghri, now a full Sith Lord, took over training the next generation of warriors. His first student was a male Falleen named Cronn, his second the human Naas Deron, the third the Twi'lek female Puket, and his last the Chiss warrior Al'than'erudo. Only Naas Deron and Al'than'erudo survived the war, though. Chi'in always looked beyond his own tasks, and took up the challenge when the Head of the Council on Korriban, Roj Kell, threatened the Dark Lord's legacy. His insight and calm competence serve Chi'in well, and he will lead the Sith on their path into the future.

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Grand Admiral Thrawn/Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo

Homeworld: Csilla

Species: Chiss

Gender: Male

Height: 1.80 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: SD Hanor Val

Affiliation: Chiss Empire

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

His real name forgotten by Imperial anti-alien protocol Mith'raw'noruodo entered service to the Emperor with the ultimate goal of protecting his own people, the Chiss, with the help of the Empire. A highly intelligent military genius Grand Admiral Thrawn was the honored adversary in Darth Vader's battle against the Empire, and ultimately the winner of the game. His obsession with information is one of his few vices, and also one of his greatest strengths. A strength he shares with Roj Kell whom he has met in a contest of wills and intellect. It is not clear which of them emerged victorious from that battle, but it seems clear that both have learned from that encounter. During the Yuuzhan Vong invasion the Grand Admiral again had a chance to prove his brilliance, and he has been restored to his rank as Syndic officially, acting as special ambassador and fleet commander of the Chiss Navy.

Tomas Piett

Homeworld: Chandrila

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.65 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Confederate Zone

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

Excelling at the Imperial Academy early on Tomas was destined for a great military career. His superior skills gained him many promotions and recommendations, but the greatest reward for ten years of excellent service in the Imperial Navy was to be his becoming captain of Darth Vader's brand-new flagship, the Super-class Star Destroyer Executor. Unfortunately circumstances changed and Piett was assigned to Grand Admiral Thrawn. Coordinating the Navy's efforts in defeating the Rebel Alliance from there the admiral demanded absolute loyalty to the Empire, something Tomas was loath to give. Although he admired the Grand Admiral, Tomas reserved his loyalty for the Dark Lord of the Sith. That, combined with his discontentment with the way the Empire was handling the war and something more personal, led him to join the Alliance in the end. For a short time he served as Chief Military Advisor of the New Republic, but certain events made him choose another career, that of a politician. Tomas Piett is now elected president of the Confederate Zone, whose founding was his own achievement. He is married to the artist Raisa Tobyn.

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Lorth Needa

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.75 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: SD Starhammer

Affiliation: New Republic

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

As close friend of Tomas Piett the former captain of the Star Destroyer Avenger never brought attention on himself through his brilliance. Yet his quiet competence and leadership qualities did not remain hidden to Darth Vader. As commander of the Dark Lord's first flagship, Avenger, Needa was fiercely loyal to the Sith Lord, and he deserted the Empire on Darth Vader's orders to assist the Alliance in bringing the Dark Lord's plan to success. He turned into a valued counselor to the Alliance Command and especially Princess Leia. On a diplomatic assignment Needa sacrificed his mission to save Padmé Naberrie from falling into the Empire's hands. His loyalty to the Dark Lord is unfaltering even in the face of death. In the war against the Yuuzhan Vong he had a chance to work tightly together with Grand Admiral Thrawn and handled his task with creativity and insight. Today Lorth Needa is one of the New Republic Navy's most prominent and adept commanders and leads High Command.

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Yana Dar

Homeworld: Naboo

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.70 meters

Weapon: None

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Sith Empire

Reference: The Storm

As the illegitimate daughter of Darth Sidious, Yana has had an interesting childhood, first on Naboo, then Coruscant, before she left to spend some years on her own in the Corporate Sector. To avoid her father she founded her own small enterprise as information broker, a group that soon rivalled that of Talon Karrde. Unknown to her, though, her father had included her in his own scheme, and she was captured by Grand Admiral Tious Markhan later on, to serve as a puppet-Empress. The actions of two Imperial Special Agents deployed by her father, and the interference of Roj Kell, spared her that unworthy fate, though, and she was declared Empress shortly thereafter. She defended that claim against both Imperial dissenters and the Yuuzhan Vong and has now extended her realm to found the new Sith Empire. Though courted by such illustre men as Emperor Ja'han'mandana, Yana has chosen to marry someone who might not match her royal lineage, but her heart and committment.

Franzis Sarreti

Homeworld: Byss

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.85 meters

Weapon: Blaster

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Sith Empire

Reference: The Storm

Franzis Sarreti was the head of a group of Imperial Agents employed by Palpatine to ensure the success of his schemes. The other agents were Erinin Mahda and Abla Othana, who were both killed by Irek Ismaren. Sarreti survived death threats and torture in dilligent service to Yana Dar. First as aide to Grand Admiral Tious Markhan, and later as the Empress' Counselor. He is an extremely gifted diplomat and has recently assumed a new role as husband to Yana Dar and happy father to Luzaya Dan, their daughter.

The Gang Drawing the Strings in the Background

Roj Kell/Liyuma

Homeworld: Ordesha (Os'jen'thana)

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.87 meters

Weaqon: Lightsaber, A Quick Mind

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: None

Reference: Backlash, Soul of Fire – Heart of Ice, The Art of War, The Storm

Born a true Sith Roj Kell experienced the conquest of his people by the Dark Jedi first hand, when he met the fallen Jedi Exar Kun on Yavin 4. Intrigued by the man's power the young Sith magician agreed to become Kun's apprentice. But after having fought side by side with his master in the war against the Jedi Roj Kell abandoned Exar Kun to seek his own future. Without rank or title he had a hard time standing against the Sith Order, but he made up for that with his exceptional understanding of the Force and Life. Over the course of three thousand years Roj Kell observed the rise and fall of the Jedi and Sith, never content, always moving on. He was as ruthless as he was perceptive, and an enigma to anyone who ever met him. As teacher to Darth Sidious he finally met his match, but Roj Kell harbored a deep resentment against being controlled by others. He cherished his freedom as much as he cherished life, and in a last lesson he showed his former student the true meaning of mastery, before he found his own peace. He died in the battle against the Yuuzhan Vong.

Belana Jen

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.70 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash, The Art of War, The Storm

A reknowned Jedi Master of her time Belana Jen followed a vision to Dantooine. The vision had shown her the key to defeat the Sith, and that key was a lone Sith, Roj Kell, who the Jedi hunters managed to capture on said planet. He was brought to Coruscant for questioning, but refused to reveal anything. Although a fierce warrior Belana did not condone torture of any kind, not even in breaking the prisoner. But when he began playing a cruel game with the Jedi she was given no choice. Accepting the challenge Belana resolved to use the man's wits against himself, and to do that she had to get to know him better. But Belana felt herself falling in love with Roj Kell, and although she was aware of the danger her eventual success in breaking his mind put her at ease. As it would turn out though, she had merely played into his hands. When sentenced to death Kell managed to convince Belana to grant him one last wish, an opportunity he used to escape, taking the Jedi Master as his hostage. Belana Jen became Roj Kell's lover and served as his apprentice for six years. Her subsequent death at Kell's own hands would lead to the ancient Sith Lord's defeat some two thousand years later.

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Yoda

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Unknown

Gender: Male

Height: 0.66 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash, The Art of War, The Storm 

Of indeterminable, but certainly long-lived, species Yoda soon became one of the most important figures of Jedi history since the end of the Sith. A Jedi Master already at the relatively young age of fifty Yoda distinguished himself through his insight and wisdom and soon took what seemed his predestined position as teacher. A hundred years after attaining the title of Jedi Master Yoda was challenged to an ethical riddle by the ancient Sith Lord Roj Kell. Intrigued by the man's philosophy and history Yoda spared his life. A mistake that would haunt him seven hundred years later. But Master Yoda prevailed and managed to overcome the ancient Sith's power in a last duel on Korriban. During Roj Kell's captivity on Coruscant, they both learned from each other, and Yoda's death shortly before the Yuuzhan Vong invasion was peaceful.

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Obi-Wan Kenobi

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.79 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: Jedi Starfighter

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: The Art of War

Formerly apprenticed to the rebellious Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn this Jedi Knight took the burden of training young Anakin Skywalker in the ways of the Force. Through unfortunate circumstances though he lost his friend and apprentice to the Dark Side and Darth Sidious. Nevertheless he did not lose his faith in Anakin, and as it turned out that faith was justified. Obi-Wan was killed by Darth Vader aboard the first Death Star, but he ultimately forgave his friend, as he was forgiven also. 

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Darth Sidious/Palpatine

Homeworld: Naboo

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.73 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber, Force Lightning

Vehicle: Anything sinister

Affiliation: Sith Order

Reference: Backlash, Soul of Fire – Heart of Ice, The Art of War

Born and raised on Naboo Palpatine started studying the Sith Lore and History at the age of fourteen. Although a brilliant youth he did not manage to enter the elite schools of the planet, and his resentment for that rebuke grew very deep. He was first apprenticed to the Whiphid Darth Nexus, Zekk Xyron, who was 'killed' by Jedi Master Alamys Jorka. With a lot of patience and careful manipulation, Sidious was able to carve himself a political career that would eventually lead him to glory. In his quest he enlisted the help of the ancient Sith Lord Roj Kell, who was intrigued by the young man's skills. Later Kell became the focus of Palpatine's resentment, but in this case the young Sith loaded more on his plate than he could handle. But this Sith Lord's shrewdness has already brought our heroes many surprises. There may be more out there.

Hagen Dycos 

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.78 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash, The Storm 

As a Padawan learner Hagen Dycos assisted his master, a Hortek by the name of Kattewa, in hunting down Roj Kell, thought to be the last of the Sith, after the fateful battle of Ruusan. After that episode the Sith were believed dead, but two decades later Hagen, now a Jedi scholar, encountered Roj Kell once again. In a game of changed identities Hagen learned more about the ancient Sith, and about himself. As consequence of that encounter Hagen decided to forgo his studies of historical events and become a guardian, beginning with training an apprentice, Kane Jinn. Hagen Dycos was one of the greatest Jedi Masters ever, and his legacy lived on in another great Jedi Master, Yoda, who was born one hundred years after Dycos' death during the Walmeyan Civil War.

Kane Jinn

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.92 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: Jedi Starfighter

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash

Kane Jinn was the first and last student to the Jedi Master Hagen Dycos. Orphaned at an early age, Kane had been captured by slavers on Nar Shadaa and was freed by Hagen Dycos and taken to Coruscant to become the Jedi Knight's Padawan learner. Throughout the next decade, Kane Jinn absorbed his master's unique philosophy of the Force and of life. He also met Roj Kell, Dycos' old friend from earlier adventures. Once Kane had attained the rank of Jedi Knight, he focused his work on hunting down criminals, an endeavor he shared with a Corellian part-time mercenary named Trent Bryar. When Trent was murdered, Kane was involuntarily dragged into a devious plot meant to destroy the Jedi Order, but he managed to blunt those plans effectively. Shortly after these events Kane Jinn secretly built up a tight and intense relationship with Trent Bryar's ex-wife and widow, Yanessa. They had a son, Jonell, after whose birth Kane left the Jedi Order for good to settle down on Corellia with his family. Kane is ancestor to the famous Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.

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Others

Roganda Ismaren

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.63 meters

Weapons: None

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: None

Reference: The Art of War, The Storm

Roganda Ismaren was born into a Jedi family, which was quickly torn apart by the new Empire's destructive policies toward the Jedi. Left all alone at age fourteen, Roganda decided to surrender to the Emperor to save her life. She was first trained as Emperor's Hand, but was to play a greater role in Palpatine's schemes when he decided that she should bear his son, Irek. From then on Roganda found herself in the constant presence of a bodyguard, Erinin Mahda, who protected both her and her infant son, even after the Empire's fall. Roganda, her adolescent son and Erinin managed to flee Coruscant before it was occupied be the rebel forces in a peaceful transition of power. But Roganda had her own plans for her son, and sought ties to both the remnant of the Empire as well as the information broker Yana Dar. The plan, though, was blunted by Irek himself, who had made his own choices concerning his fate. Roganda was captured by the New Republic, but at the Dark Lord's request accompanied him to Byss, where Roganda learned of her son's death. She made friends with Yana Dar, now Empress, and the two women continued their onerous journey together, when they were both taken prisoner by the invading Yuuzhan Vong. Now that the war has ended, Roganda has found the time she needs to heal, and someone to stand by her side. Having given up on her hopeless romantic feelings for Grand Admiral Thrawn, she has found solace in Lando Calrissian's company.

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Irek Ismaren

Homeworld: Byss

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.83 meters

Weapon: The Force

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: None

Reference: The Storm

Irek Ismaren was not so much born as created from the genetic profiles of Darth Sidious and Roj Kell, an experiment aiming at a combination of the Sith Master's strength in the Force with the ancient Sith Lord's mental abilities. Irek was indeed a combination of the two men, yet this only led to internal conflicts that mirrored the real-life conflicts fought out between Sidious and Kell. This was also the reason for Irek's growing madness and his plunge into darkness. Feeling torn, the boy found hismself unable to cope with reality. In his despair he tried to find someone to teach him, an idol to replace the father he had never had. While in control of the Super Star Destroyer Executor – part of his mother's scheme – Irek tried to gain Grand Admiral Thrawn's attention, but failed. He seemed to finally have reached his goal when he was confronted by Roj Kell, but his 'father' decided that the boy was not worthy of his legacy, and killed him in cold blood. 

Khameir Sarin

Homeworld: Iridonia

Species: Zabrak

Gender: Male

Height: 1.75 meters

Weapons: Dual-phase Lightsaber

Vehicle: Sith Infiltrator

Affiliation: Sith Order

Reference: Soul of Fire – Heart of Ice

This Zabrak warrior was a wild-fire without proper guidance, until his talents fell under the merciless srutiny of two Sith. Caught in the midst of a power struggle between Darth Sidious and Roj Kell Khameir was first confronted with the Dark Side and in the end found his calling in servitude to Sidious. He was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi at the battle of Naboo.

Solay Undan

Homeworld: Iridonia

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.67 meters

Weapon: Charm and Looks

Vehicle: Speeder

Affiliation: Undan Clan

Reference: Soul of Fire – Heart of Ice

Heiress to a wide-spread trade network on Iridonia Solay fell prey to Roj Kell's manipulations, hoping to profit from his knowledge and power. Force-sensitive herself this mentally very unstable and cruel woman decided to blunt her lover's plans concerning Khameir Sarin by betraying him to his former student, Darth Sidious. Eventually she paid for her foolishness with her life.

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Tarla Hasheen

Homeworld: Coruscant

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 1.72 meters

Weapon: Lightsaber

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: Jedi Order

Reference: Backlash

Tarla received her training as a Jedi Knight in the midst of the war against the Sith, a fact that predestined her career. Her first master, Kulur, died at her own hands, when Roj Kell took over her mind in a battle against his captors. Her following apprenticeship to Belana Jen was also cut short by Roj Kell, when the Sith Lord fled Coruscant and took Tarla's teacher with him. Nevertheless the young woman grew through this troublesome time and became a wise and very adept warrior. Ten years after the fateful events on Coruscant though Tarla Hasheen was killed in a last encounter with her greatest enemy.

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Gorji Tieman

Homeworld: Naboo

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.82 meters

Weapon: None

Vehicle: None

Affiliation Rebel Alliance

Reference: The Art of War

Originally a Naboo politician, who left the planet at the beginning of the Clone Wars, Gorji Tieman took the seat of Governor on Chandrila a year before Chancellor Palpatine declared himself Emperor. Using his position deftly, Governor Tieman secretly worked for the resistance movement, supporting Chandrilean Senator Mon Mothma until the Senate was disbanded and Mon Mothma became leader of the Rebel Alliance. Throughout the years Gorji Tieman remained a loyal Naboo citizen, a fact that saved the life of Naboo's former queen twice. Governor Tieman was ordered executed for treason by Grand Admiral Thrawn in the war against the Alliance later on, but his death carried the flame of rebellion further.

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Kit Nesha

Homeworld: Deyer

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Height: 1.90 meters

Weapon: None

Vehicle: None

Affiliation: None

Reference: The Art of War

A man with a caring heart and a great love for all life, Kit Nesha met Padmé Naberrie and Obi-Wan Kenobi under dire circumstances. Although fate separated the trio very soon their friendship lasted over two decades. In the end Kit Nesha was the one who pointed Luke Skywalker toward his mother. Kit died in the battle of Chandrila.


End file.
